


Broken Promise

by XhaotixAesthetica



Category: K-pop, Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Aromantic, Bisexual Female Character, Character Death, Depression, Domestic Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Original Character(s), Polyamory, Recreational Drug Use, Self-Harm, Sex, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, THIS IS A FIRST DRAFT GO EASY ON ME, Trans Female Character, Unedited We Die Like Men, but no smut, but there's a lot of them, it's not the main relationship though, most of it is just mentions, not as bad as the tags make it sound i promise, stupidly, this started when i listened to Apology by iKON and spiraled out of control from there, very mild though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 14:31:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 63,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20448671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XhaotixAesthetica/pseuds/XhaotixAesthetica
Summary: A lot of you won't read this solely because there's an OC which messes with your reader x member/member x member fantasies and that sucks but oh well.•To love is to receive a glimpse of heaven•Promise Keshan doesn't want to think.Not about her mother's suicide or the four men who violated her that night when she was just a little girl or Jiho, who left her without a word right when she needed him most, or her pseudo-acquaintance who tells her hushed lunchtime stories of a normal world she feels she doesn't deserve to take part in.So she self destructs to destroy her heart and builds big stone walls to guard what little is left of it.Promise isn't a heroine. Isn't a villain.She's just a girl, trying to find a way to heal again.





	1. //The Devil

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally on my Wattpad but the Wattpad algorithm pisses me off so I'm posting it here as well. I mainly want feedback for when I edit this cause I'm looking to change some of the names and publish this thing, I've literally spent two years on it and it's my baby.That being said, please please PLEASE comment feedback, as detailed as you can, telling me tips, what you like, what I can fix, literally anything. The longer and more detailed the better honestly.
> 
> Wow, grammar and punctuation went out of the window for this book note huh,

_The house was silent as it usually was, except for the loud noise that had just woken me up._

_I checked the clock and frowned. Half-past two in the morning._

_All of the servants would be asleep and security was outside, not in._

_We had no pets._

_What was that noise?_

_It had to be Mom. Maybe she'd fallen from her aerial hoop again. I hope she's not hurt._

_Clambering out of my massive queen-size bed, I shivered when my feet hit the freezing marble floor, the small pitter-patter of my tiny feet echoing eerily throughout the creepily silent mansion that was my house since conception._

_It felt like a decade-long walk to my mother's studio but upon reaching it, I was puzzled to see she was nowhere to be found._

_Her silks, hoops, and other things were completely and utterly still, almost as if they were holding their breath. She hadn't been here for hours._

_I made the journey to her room (it had been separate from my father's for quite some time) but she wasn't there either._

_It took my little child self about half an hour before I finally thought to check my father's study._

_He never actually used it to get work done at home to try and spend time with us, he only used it for when there was an event here that he needed to host but still had to get things done. On the rare occasions when he was here, I would often see him bringing women into the room for business deals._

_It started to concern me about a year ago but Mom had put me at ease, assuring me with a look I couldn't understand that those women were just there for business deals and Dad was away so often to make us money so we could keep our house and all our nice things._

_That night had been the first night I realized I hated my house and all our nice things,_

_I'd wanted to tell my dad that we didn't need them and that it would just be a nice thing if he could please come home because I couldn't even remember what he looked like._

_But he was never home for me to tell him and my mother had always stopped me before I had the chance to call._

_'You don't want to be ungrateful,' she said._

_When I reached my father's study, I immediately registered a metallic, iron scent that I'd never smelled before._

_I could see my mother's dainty feet, identical to mine lying out from behind the desk like she'd passed out._

_I panicked, sure she'd hit her head and gone unconscious, but when I ran to check, what I found was so much worse._

_A gun clutched in her hand, a chunk blown out of her head and brain matter splattered on every surface._

_It was eighteen hours before someone found us and I hadn't moved once._

_They say to love is to receive a glimpse of heaven._

_My mother may have hit and yelled at me sometimes but she did love me and I loved her._

_To have that love taken away?_

_That's hell._

_The only way to survive is to become the devil._


	2. //Beautiful

> ** _Too beautiful to handle." - _ ** _Beautiful, Monsta X_  
  


The first thing I registered when I woke up was a pleasant ache between the legs and a warm body around mine.

The ache was new.

A lot of people, boys especially, talked all kinds of shit but had no actual clue how to please their partner sexually.

I'd learned enough to use their bodies to chase my own pleasure but that had not been the case last night.

This guy had worked me in the best of ways and I didn't have to lift a finger except to pleasure him which was quite fun.

He made the most agonizingly glorious sounds and his face was already devastatingly good-looking so his expressions were to-die-for.

Not to mention, we'd both built up such tolerance that we had stamina for days.

We'd gone multiple rounds for hours.

The question is why in the hell is he still here?

And cuddling me no less.

It's kind of cute that he's an after-sex cuddler though.

Still, they're usually gone by the time I wake up. That's the way I prefer it. That way no one has to get their feelings hurt.

I'd never given out that bullshit "I'll call you." line as it only cause more problems later.

Instead, I was straightforward in telling them I just used them for some fun, it was fun while it lasted, now get the hell out of my house.

I don't know why they expected anything out of me anyways. I didn't at all look or act like someone that was looking for anything but a good fuck.

Still, I couldn't blame this dude for being tired from last night after all we'd done, so I said nothing as I pulled away from him in the bed and headed towards the shower.

It was probably about one o'clock right now on a Thursday and I knew instantly that school was off the table, so I could enjoy a long hot shower with no rush.

The more I moved the more I found my body was actually a lot sorer than I had originally thought and it was a pleasant surprise.

About halfway through my shower, I felt arms around me and lips on my neck and I unconsciously let out a needy whimper to which I actually blushed and the man behind me laughed.

I'd found him last night at an underground rap battle.

Heaven knows why I still went to those things anymore. The talent was usually pretty good but at this point, it was just one big painful reminder. The fact that there was even the slightest possibility I could see Jiho there made it even more of a horrible experience because part of me hoped I'd never see his stupid fucking face again and the other part just wants to know if he's safe. If he's ok.

Anyways, this boy had been performing there and he'd caught my eye from the stage, soft light blonde hair hidden behind a snapback, dark eyes raking down my body in the most sinful way as his perfect plump mouth pulled up in a pleased smirk, as he bit his lip and winked.

I'd been more intrigued than I ever had in my entire life and after a bit of flirting and learning that his name was Jooheon, it wasn't long before we were stumbling into my room, throwing clothes off while we shoved our tongues down each other's throats.

I'd usually been the dominant one but with Jooheon I had no chance.

I couldn't lie though that I'd found it hot as hell.

That was how it was now as Jooheon took me against the shower wall, my nails digging into his back as my still-sensitive body reacted to his every skilled touch.

Sex was bliss in itself, but fucking Jooheon put me in another world.

One where I wasn't a complete bitch. One where no one hated me and I didn't hurt people. A world where there was just pleasure.

Even when we were done, he stayed inside me a bit longer as we made out lazily under the stream of water.

"Don't get any ideas, you're just a good fuck, nothing more." I said breathlessly, resting my head on the cold tiles behind me as Jooheon laughed.

"And you're not? I do want your number though cause I'll definitely be wanting some of _this_," he looked down at the intimate part of my body and smirked, "again."

I laughed. "I like the way you think, Jooheon. Give me another round and your number then scram, I've got shit to do today."

I fought the urge to cringe. I didn't have to say that. I'd already informed him of the situation, this was just being mean. But maybe it was better this way. I'd been on the receiving end of catching feelings from a fuck buddy, because of an ambiguous situation.

I didn't want to put anyone through that.

After Jooheon left, I could take a real shower before brushing my teeth and all that good hygiene stuff.

Besides making sure I was clean and looked my best, I didn't bother taking care of myself. Myself was the main person I didn't give a shit about.

I sighed when I'd pulled on my underwear and reached under my sink for my blade only to remember that it was dull and I'd forgotten to buy another one.

I'd get another one later, this would have to do for now.

My face remained impassive as I slid the metal harshly over my hipbone till I sighed in satisfaction, just watching the blood run down my golden brown skin in a trance.

I didn't know when cutting myself had become a morning ritual, something necessary to get me through the day, but it was.

I'd done it before Jiho left but the habit got ten times worse afterward. The blade seemed to be the only thing I had control of.

But the habit didn't get in the way of my sex life.

When the cuts were at the proper point, I put cream on to avoid the majority of scarring and they weren't in the most obvious places, to begin with. Plus people were so busy trying to get what they wanted that they didn't notice and, if they did, they didn't care.

Except for Jooheon.

He'd seen them right away and we'd both frozen because I was ten seconds away from kicking him out and crying in my bathroom but then he'd actually kissed them.

Jooheon had been the reason I rediscovered my praise kink last night.

When I'd cleaned up and thrown on a pair of high-waisted black shorts with a cropped grey tank top and grey Timberlands, I just combed through my hair from memory.

I didn't really look in mirrors much and had actually put black sheets over the ones I passed by too often.

I didn't want to see my slightly-too-small face with its soft features, round shape, chubby cheeks, small button nose, full lips, and big mismatched eyes, left one forest green and the right a deep storm grey. It was a pretty face, I'd been told. Identical to my mother's.

It was, apparently, a face pretty enough to rape. I don't know how true that is, but people make it out like only the "pretty" ones or the ones who show too much skin get violated. The ones who make it hard for guys to control themselves.

I couldn't do shit about my face, so I just chose, instead, to not look at it at all.

Even in body, I was identical to my mother. A bit tall for a girl at five foot nine and a powerful body, lean and muscle-lined from legs from years of dancing, acrobatics, and kickboxing.

I'd done as much as I could to set myself apart from my mother in my head. She'd had luscious constantly straightened waist-length hair and I opted to keep my thick spirally hair shoulder-length and dying the naturally blue-black hair a lilac-ish silver, getting tattoos, and piercings, but it was only so much that that could do.

And the last thing I wanted was to have even more of a daily reminder of my mother than I already did.

At least that was how it started out.

Now, I just wanted to have as little reminder of myself as possible.


	3. //Crybaby

> ** _"You seem to replace your brain with your heart. You take things so hard and then you fall apart."_ **  
  


"Are these all the books, Nana?"

"There's still two more boxes, but I've got those!"

"No, you don't, now, sit down and watch tv when I'm done with these, I'll make something for you to eat."

"You mean for _us _to eat."

"Yes, Nana."

Looking everything but convinced, Nana side-eyed me before reluctantly turning and ambling up the stairs, leaving me to put the four boxes of books onto the shelves.

My Nana was one of two people in this world I gave two shits about.

She and my mom hadn't been on speaking terms after my mom decided to abandon her life as a pretty successful acrobat and marry my father, whom Nana hated with every fiber of her being.

I hadn't even met her until my mom's funeral. We'd been the only two people there.

All those people that claimed to be my mom's friends? They were nowhere to be seen.

I would later find out my dad was busy fucking a pretty woman in Bora Bora who would eventually become my step-mother.

It hadn't been a great way to meet your grandmother but when she saw me curled up by my mom's casket, silent as my mother despite the sobs restricting my breath, it had apparently been love at first sight and she'd been the only person who cared ever since.

That one night when my step-mother, Andrea, put me out and I found out just how dangerous a female body can be, I'd gone to my Nana's bookstore in the city and she'd treated me in her apartment above it.

It would ruin my father's reputation if I were to go to the hospital and people found out I was gang-raped, especially if word got out about why my thirteen-year-old self was out on the streets at that time anyways, so my Nana had been my only option and she didn't disappoint.

She'd asked questions, of course, but they were questions that I'd never answered.

To this day I don't think she knows the full extent of what happened and that's the way I'd like to keep it.

In between my various methods of self-destruction, I tried to make sure I found at least two hours out of the day to visit her and help her with the shop.

While I was on the second box of books, I heard the bell ring as a group of chattering people came in — people my age, by the sound of it.

God, they were loud.

I stayed where I was, continuing to put up books.

I'd ring them up when the time came but there was no need to go out and speak to them. If it wasn't obvious already, I'm not good with people.

After that night Andrea put me out, I'd spent a year and a half going out of my way to be vicious to any and everyone I could find.

It had been the most draining year and a half of my entire life and directly led to the blossoming of my other bad habits.

Once I started those other habits, I realized how much going out of my way to hurt people drained me. My background considered, I'd been sheltered and kept locked up my whole life for our reputation's sake, so I was already awkward with people to begin with. That year and a half had been the first real human interaction I'd had in my life and I'd forced it way too hard in all the wrong ways and ended up traumatizing myself far more than actually helping.

Upon realizing this I was only vicious to those who stepped directly in my path which was draining in itself, but it kept people away from me.

I was fully aware that I had no right to take my anger out on innocent people, especially because I was just contributing to them feeling as bad as I do but I couldn't help it.

And that only made me hate myself even more.

Then I met Jiho and that was a whole other shit-show entirely.

"Excuse me?" I jumped from my place on the ladder, looking down to see who'd broken me out of my revelry.

"Um, do you need help?" a good-looking tall boy asked with a raised brow and a terrified expression.

I was confused for a moment before I realized I was putting the books away in my normal way, by climbing the shelves.

I was currently dangling from one arm from the top shelf with my legs curled behind me and a book in the other hand to be put away.

It was a great arm workout and it made the job more fun but everyone was generally disturbed when they caught me in similar positions.

Besides these shelves had definitely stood the test of time and whatever material they were made of had to be the strongest fucking thing this side of planet earth so I was fairly confident it wouldn't fall on me.

Not like I'd mind if it did.

There were currently eight people in this shop, excluding me. One of them was a beautiful girl about five inches shorter than me at least with shoulder-length cinnamon-colored hair, golden brown skin, and dark eyes with a thin body wearing black from head to toe.

The rest were seven devastatingly good-looking boys.

One of which, I realized with a start was Jooheon.

Small world.

I shook my head and the pretty girl next to him asked, "Do you work here?"

Well, I guess, technically.

I nodded.

"Do you have a copy of Fahrenheit 451?"

When she saw the look I gave her, she laughed. "I need it for class."

I nodded, putting the book back and pulling myself up onto the shelves and mentally running through my catalog of this bookstore, trying to figure out where I kept the shit fic.

I admittedly had way too much fun practicing my acrobatics on these shelves but my Nana couldn't deny that it was definitely a faster way to do things and it made me happier.

Whatever made me happier, she generally let me do.

She wasn't stupid, she knew exactly what I was up to with the cutting and whoring around and drinking, but the only person that cared was her and while I would listen to her about a lot of things, my own well-being wasn't one of them.

Anyways, that being said, my grabbing a book never involved actually stepping foot on the ground.

Instead, I flipped off bookshelf tops, swinging and climbing from shelf to shelf like a vine, but I returned with the book in half the time it would have taken if I'd done it the regular way.

Dancing and acrobatics were the only things I'd kept alive when my mother died.

Dance and acrobatics had kept her sane for those thirteen years of marriage. It had made her happy, and there was no way I could hate something that did that.

Somewhere along the way I stopped doing it for her and started doing it for myself, using the movements as a way to keep me sane as well.

My mother and I were more similar than I'd ever admit.

I knew from the look on their faces when I got back that Jooheon had informed his companions of our activities these past two weeks.

I was unfazed.

They couldn't think, say, or do anything that hadn't already been done.

"Here," I said simply, pushing the book into the girl's hands.

"Is there anything else?"

"No, that'll be all." she said politely.

I could barely restrain my envy.

She was everything I thought I would end up being as a child.

Kind, socially competent, and not letting her looks change her.

I'd become the opposite.

Being abused is never any excuse to become a monster but I'd let it happen anyways.

While I was ringing up the girl's book, I couldn't help sneaking glances at Jooheon out of the corner of my eye.

He looked like my own personal Adonis as always: a black snapback on turned backward with black jeans and a black and white graphic hoodie.

How someone managed to turn me on this much in such a simple outfit was completely beyond my understanding.

"Here you go." I said dryly, handing the girl the book.

She and the rest of her friends left the shop and I knew they were right outside waiting for Jooheon to come out.

"You want me?" he said it like a question but we were both well aware it was a statement.

"Hell yeah I do," I smiled coyly.

I was in front of him now, his arms trapping me between the desk and his body, only about half an inch taller than mine.

His lips were on my neck and my hands were clutching his hoodie as he breathed in my ear, voice raspy, "I have another show at midnight tonight. You should come. I'll take care of you after."

I nodded but he didn't stop.

I knew he wanted to leave me with something that would have me wanting him all day until, by the time I saw him tonight, I just wouldn't be able to stand it anymore.

And then I had to ruin it.

"You have nice friends."

Jooheon froze, momentarily stunned at the random statement.

I was stunned myself.

What the hell was I saying? Why?

But it was too late to take it back.

"I mean, they just, they-they seem like they really care. About you, I mean."

Jooheon raised an eyebrow. "Why would it matter to you whether or not I have people that care about me?"

"I don't." I scoffed.

It was just weird to notice. Jooheon was new territory for me. The only one night stand that had become a bit more.

Essentially, we were fuck buddies without the 'buddy' part.

These past two weeks, I'd only slept with three girls and two other guys besides Jooheon and, for me, that was a record.

He just knew exactly how to please me and put me in another mindset entirely and when you're about to break down that's what you need, not just another dick you have to use for yourself because its own owner has no clue what to do with it.

He was different from my other one night stands, in a way that possibly didn't even have to do with sex.

He almost reminded me of me if I wasn't a total dick to everyone I met.

"Do you have people that care about you?"

The question stung even though it wasn't meant to. I knew he wasn't mocking me but it felt like he was and I immediately went on the offense.

"I'm like you. A pretty face but no real personality for anyone to get attached to."

Oh my god.

Please tell me I didn't just . . . oh my god.

That hurt him.

I could see it in his eyes, that hurt him. He was insecure and I'd hit him right in his soft spot. He did absolutely nothing to deserve it and I'd torn him down.

I was no better than the people who'd done it to me.

I wanted to apologize but the words wouldn't fall from my lips.

I tried to convince myself it was better this way. If he was asking questions like that, then the line was blurring. He'd started forgetting how easy it was to form emotional attachments.

This would be a good reminder.

I could've used a fucking reminder with Jiho and I probably wouldn't have turned out half as bad as I am.

But I am the way I am because Jiho hurt me. And here I was, doing the same thing to other people.

I didn't want to hurt Jooheon.

God, I never wanted to hurt anyone, but that was all I ever seemed to do.

Heartless. Cold. Monster.

What the fuck is _wrong _with me?

The pain of a reopened wound still evident in Jooheon's eyes, he leaned his mouth down to my ear and whispered, "You better be there tonight, princess. I'm going to fucking wreck you."

Seconds later, he was gone like he'd never existed and I was still at the counter, hating myself.

It was ironic, really.

I'd schooled my facial expressions into control, but it didn't make me any less over-emotional Any less sensitive.

If anything it made it worse.

I took everything to heart, overthought every little word, phrase, and gesture, and people's opinions mattered to me more than my own at this point.

When I hurt people like that, I just hurt myself in the process.

Which was probably one of the reasons I did it.


	4. //The Slaughterhouse

They called it The Slaughterhouse, an overdramatic name created by teens and kids of the neighborhood, that just seemed to stick.

As you can imagine from the name, it had a bad rep. A lot of people said drug deals, streetfights, and street-racing went down there.

They were right, but there was more to it than that. There were also dance competitions and rap battles and it didn't necessarily have to be a bad place unless you got involved with the wrong crowd.

Lucky for me, I am the wrong crowd.

The Slaughterhouse was where I'd spent a majority of my time since I was fourteen.

I'd participated in the street fights, street races, and dance competitions nearly every time they were held and after a year, I won the majority of the time.

Because I was a rich kid and too "stuck-up" to talk anyone and was always hanging around dudes, a rumor started going around that I was either a big-shot drug dealer's prostitute, daughter, or a drug dealer myself. Or all of the above.

The rumor actually did some good as no one even thought about messing with me or even talking to me unless I was seducing them which was a piece of cake in itself.

I'd come here two weeks ago out of sheer boredom. I rarely ever came to the rap battles anymore. They were still pretty exciting, but nobody seemed to really own the stage the way Jiho had. Seeing him rap, for me, at least, was an experience. Not to say that others weren't good, they just weren't my cup of tea.

And then Jooheon took the stage.

I had no clue who his opponent was and I doubt anyone else did either. Jooheon was spitting fire from the moment he opened his mouth till the moment he closed it, syllables perfectly matching the beat, voice harsh, words unfiltered, as he rode the rhythm like he was born to do it. It was no question that he'd won though I'm pretty sure the over-confident kid going against him, ego now stomped into the dirt, had left shedding a few tears.

I'd wanted him instantly.

As far as Jooheon was concerned, this was the first time since the night we met that I was coming back to his show.

What he didn't know was that I hadn't missed a single of his four battles since.

As a dancer, I obviously love music. Something about Jooheon's voice, his flow, his passion, the way he put his words together: it was addictive. I couldn't get enough. Sure, he'd gotten laid every time afterward but the fact that I found it the sexiest thing on the planet was just a bonus.

The biggest reason I came was just to listen to his music.

The Slaughterhouse itself was a one-level parking garage belonging to an abandoned factory across the street on the wrong side of the tracks.

The street-fights had been the original purpose for it, hence such a brutal name as The Slaughterhouse which was why someone had set up a boxing ring.

Then eventually it just evolved and a DJ set up shop for the rap battles and everything else started happening and here we are now.

The depths of The Slaughterhouse was where all the shady dealings took place, but I didn't really go over there except to the edge sometimes for the weed.

My eyes darted around the Slaughterhouse, searching for the familiar head of bright white hair and bright skin.

Almost everyone wore black, a precaution in case the police came, so it was a bit of a struggle to find him, but I eventually did spot him.

He was with those seven people from earlier, one of the tall, lanky boys in the group having his arm thrown around the pretty thin girl from before.

They all seemed to be happy and carefree, laughing at whatever the conversation was about, their faces expressing how happy they were and body language showing how comfortable they felt around each other.

I turned, lips pursed as I stood there alone, scowling at the ring, envy bubbling in the pit of my stomach.

In the course of my life, I only really had one friend.

A girl named Alex.

When my mom would take me to the playground, I would see her and we would play together for hours if our parents let us.

But after my mom killed herself .....my family being who we were, news got out fast. All the kids knew. It freaked them out. Alex, having known my mom, was especially freaked out.

We didn't really talk anymore after that.

"Wow, you're here early. You actually planning to watch the whole thing?"

I whirled around, cheeks flushing for absolutely no reason when I saw Jooheon standing there, an amicable look on his face but an unreadable one in his eyes.

I wondered if he still remembered my words from earlier. I'm willing to bet that if I still did, he damn sure does.

"Yeah. Nothing else to do, you know. "

Jooheon rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure that's the reason."

I cast a glance over my shoulder and scoffed when I saw his friends watching us, not even trying to be discreet.

"What's up with them? You don't normally talk to the girls you fuck or something?"

"I do. I think they just don't like the fact that I'm talking to you."

"Oh."

It made sense that they'd heard of me. I wondered if it was just through the grapevine or if I'd actually ever personally said something cruel to them.

I'd brushed off so many people, it was hard to keep count.

But I think I would remember seeing them, at least one of them before, and they didn't really look like they held any sort of personal vendetta against me.

I knew they had every right to be wary of me considering all the things I've said to people and my reputation floating around, but it still stung.

I didn't even know why. It's not like I knew them or something.

That's why I didn't like getting even remotely associated with people. It affected me too much, even if I barely knew them.

"Do you ever participate?" Jooheon asked suddenly.

My brows raised.

"In rapping?"

"No, like anything going on here. Fights, drugs, street races?"

"All of the above."

The corner of Jooheon's mouth quirked up in a half-smile. "You fight? Hot."

The Slaughterhouse was beginning to get more and more packed, and I could see the DJ arriving, meaning things were going to get started in about fifteen minutes or so.

"When do you go on?"

Jooheon raised an eyebrow, leaning in a little closer to me. "Why, you actually gonna watch?"

I rolled my eyes, taking a step back, "You wish. I'm here for the after-party, remember?"

Jooheon seemed to analyze me for a moment and I couldn't help shuffling just a bit, slightly uncomfortable.

I was normally a good liar, but Jooheon seemed to be very adept at spotting those.

"Right. See you after, then." He smiled before turning and heading back towards his friends.

I tried not to watch them out of the corner of my eye, but I couldn't help it.

The way they all interacted with each other, so easily and close. It made me remember my mom. She'd had her moments. A whole lot of them.

But she was still my best friend.

I thought about her everytime I wanted to make a friend or get close to someone.

If I couldn't even help my mom, how could I have an actual friend?

I didn't know how to be there for somebody. I didn't know how to make people happy.

I saw my mother every single day and I still couldn't prevent what happened.

I had no right to have any fucking friends.


	5. //Forever

> ** _"You could be my only star. You could be the moonlight. Let's stay like this forever. Forever." — _ ** _Forever, EXO_

I could feel Jooheon's friends eyes on me as the bass thrummed through the concrete, giving my teeth that unbearable vibrating feeling.

I tried to ignore it and every time I looked at them, they would look away only to turn and look at me again a few moments later.

I didn't know what their deal was exactly, but I figured I could guess.

They seemed to be pretty protective of Jooheon. They were probably wondering exactly what my intentions were with him. Wondering if I was just here for the sex or if I was actually one of those sickos that got off on making people love them then leaving them high and dry.

I'd stooped to some low points in my life, but I'd never stoop that low. Sounds too much like my father.

I was broken out of my trance by the sound of the DJ announcing the next two rappers going against each other and I blanched as I heard the names.

Jooheon and Zico.

Zico.

Jiho was here. He was back here in this godforsaken city, standing here in this godforsaken building.

And he was looking right at me.

My entire body froze. I could do nothing but stare deadpanned as he looked at me, not-at-all surprised to see me still stuck here, even after the year since he'd been gone.

And he didn't even have the decency to look sorry.

He fucking winked.

He'd left me, not even giving me shit from him to know that he was fucking alive except stupid mixtape releases and he has the nerve to fucking wink?

Jooheon turned, eyebrow raised in mild interest to see who Jiho was communicating with only to stop short when he saw it was actually me. He looked back and forth between Jiho and I curiously, eyebrows furrowing more and more when he saw the predatory look in Jiho's eyes.

I pushed off the wall I was leaning against and made my way towards the ring where Jooheon and Jiho were stood and Jooheon crouched, eyebrows raised while Jiho and Jooheon's friends looked at me intensely.

"Do me a favor, will you?" I whispered, trying to ignore the way Jooheon shuddered slightly.

"Depends on what it is."

"_Destroy _him_._" I nod towards Jiho, unable to keep a slight hiss out of my voice. Jooheon's dark eyes flicker to him briefly before landing on me once more as he smirked, somewhat reassuringly.

"I was already gonna do that anyway, princess."

I roll my eyes, patting his cheek lightly as I turned, his little giggle echoing through my mind, almost drowning out even the deafening bass in my mind as I made my way back to my previous spot, watching closely as the lights dimmed and the music leveled out till it was just a few synth notes and a beat.

Jiho went first.

He was even better than I remembered.

Jiho had never been particularly fast. It was his flow. His words. The way he seemed to create his own honeyed rhythm out of bars, rhymes, and harmonies that somehow made their own song but still complimented and danced along the beat.

I was glad that everyone was too enraptured with Jiho to see the few tears that dropped to the ground. _Get it together, you dumb bitch, it's been a year, you're done crying over him._

Everyone cheered when Jiho finished.

Mostly everyone here knew him, or had heard of him at least.

I'd met him here two years ago. He was kind of like Jooheon, tall, scary, a workoholic, a damn good rapper, and the most passionate boy I'd ever seen.

The way Jooheon had captured everyone's hearts, Jiho had too until he disappeared without a trace. He was an old favorite.

When I told Jooheon to destroy him, I didn't really think he'd actually do it.

I know Jooheon is good but I didn't think he was _Jiho _good.

But Jiho had taught me long ago that comparing rappers was useless. "Everyone's in their own category. They have their own thing, their own art, their own hidden talents, their own complexity." he'd said, eyes bright, like they always were whenever he talked about music.

I'd forgotten that lesson from him, thrown it in a mental box of every memory that was him and locked it in the furthest reaches of my brain.

But I saw how it rang true today as Jooheon fucking demolished the man, dropping even Jiho's jaw as deep-cutting syllable after deep-cutting syllable, each one sharper than the last, fell from his lips. 

The harshness of the words and intensity of his purposefully choppy, almost bouncing, flow wound around the beat like a tightly coiled spring, the coil's tension exploding as Jooheon reached the breakdown, rapping so fast that his voice was almost reduced to nothing more than raspy growls.

Even if the crowd hadn't have been there to cheer and make their vote known, it would have been glaringly obvious who won.

Jiho smiled as he shook hands amicably after it was over, even making small talk with Jooheon, no hostility in his eyes.

Jiho was a good rapper, but he wasn't invincible. He'd been beaten before, and he seemed to have gotten even better at dealing with it.

It pissed me the fuck off.

"Jesus Christ, what did you say to him?"

My head snapped over to see one of Jooheon's friends, the thin-brown haired girl standing next to me, looking on curiously as my eyes floated left, running over each of her six friends beside her.

Having that many guys, especially considering how intimidating and angry they looked, made me highly uncomfortable and I did not appreciate some girl I didn't know putting me into an awkward situation like that.

"Say to who?" I questioned slowly, keeping a very close eye on each and every one of them.

"To Jooheon. I've never heard him rap like that. He _destroyed _that guy."

I snorted a little at that, nodding slightly. "That he did."

I could see the girl's eyes widen, shifting to something behind me and I closed my eyes in frustration, knowing the exact voice I was about to hear before the person even opened their mouth.

"Long time no see, huh, Kesh?"

"Oh, you lost all right to call me that, _Zico_." I turned to him, unable to help narrowing my eyes accusingly, spitting his stage name out in a venomous hiss.

Jiho's expression fell.

I'd never called him Zico before. It was always Jiho. I was the only one he let call his real name, besides his family. I used to feel so special because of that.

Now the thought made my stomach roll.

Calling him by his real name had gotten me more attached but it apparently hadn't given him any incentive to stay. Or take me with him.

What was the point?

He was a stranger to me now anyway.

Or rather I was a stranger to him.

I seem to be the only one who'd done any changing in the past year.

"Kesh, please don't call me—"

"Promise, you ready to go?"

Sometime in between Jiho and I staring at each other, more like glaring on my end, Jooheon's friends had drifted away, presumably to give us more privacy, and Jooheon had appeared. He paid little attention to Jiho, hands shoved in his pockets, one brow raised as the bill of his snapback cast all kinds of harsh shadows against his face.

It was easy to forget how intimidating he was when he wasn't smiling and giggling all the time.

"Yeah."

Jooheon nodded once to Jiho as we left but I didn't say anything. as I turned my back on him like he had on me a year ago. I had so much that I wanted to say to him and now that I saw him, I didn't want to say anything. I just wanted to get away, to feel Jooheon's skin against mine as he took me to another world and made me forget it all.  
  
  


"Do you want me to make forget his name?" Jooheon whispered as he nipped lightly at my lips as we stumbled towards my bedroom. His hands were everywhere, making the hairs on the back of my neck stand in anticipation.

I couldn't restrain a moan as I nodded, reaching my arms up around his neck and pressing my body closer to his to taste more of him.

I could already feel every thought of Jiho melting away, and I wanted more. I wanted it all gone without a trace. I wanted to feel good. I wanted to make Jooheon feel good.

Jiho was a thing of the past and over the past year, he had almost blurred into a figment of my imagination. That was exactly where I wanted him to stay.

Jooheon chuckled as he pushed me down onto the bed, smirking as he advanced towards me, coming eye-level with my hips, unzipping my shorts ever-so-slowly and laughing at the impatient whine that left me.

"Don't worry, the only name you'll be remembering tonight is mine."

And it was.

For the rest of the night, Jooheon, me, and this world we'd created in the bedroom, under my sheets was everything that existed to me.


	6. //The Hills

> ** _"I only call you when it's half past five. The only time I'd ever call you mine. I only love it when you touch me, not feel me. When I'm fucked up, that's the real me." — _ ** _The Hills, The Weeknd_

Tendrils of smoke curled around me, fanning out at the ceiling. All the windows were cracked so the smell wouldn't wake Jooheon, even though I knew he smoked too. The monster burned my throat as I chugged it, chasing down the cheese puffs which made up this morning's breakfast.

There wasn't any light turned on and it was a muggy overcast day so my room was dark, the only light coming from the bay windows, one of which I sat in, still naked, as I ate my breakfast, looking out onto the rest of my family's property.

After step-cunt threw me out that night, I'd moved out. Of the main house, at least. Daddy dearest had long since given me a bottomless debit card to shut me up and I used to it build myself a little place on the edge of the property, spending sleepless nights at 24/7 restaurants and my one-night stand's beds until it was finished.

It wasn't very complex and I'd had plenty of money so it didn't take that long.

It gave me the peace of mind, at least, of not having to walk around the house that my mother was so miserable in that she decided to take her own life. The house that my dad never visits, because he's too busy off fucking other women and probably ruining other people's lives. The house that that _bitch _walks around, thinking she owns the place. That she's replaced my mom.

"Hey, what'd that cigarette do to you?"

My head snapped over to Jooheon before looking down to see I'd snapped the cigarette in half and basically flattened it, ash all over my bare thighs and the black pillow I was sitting on.

I sighed, downing the rest of the monster and dropping the cigarette in, chucking the can into the wastebasket across the room.

"How long have you been awake?" he asked, sitting up and raking a hand through his wild bed head, voice gravelly and fucked-out from sleep and the night we'd had.

"A couple of hours." I replied.

Jooheon raised a brow. "And you didn't kick me out?"

"I guess your cute little face spared you," I said sarcastically, reaching over and tossing the other can of Monster and bag of cheese puffs at him, unceremoniously telling him that breakfast was served.

He eyed me dubiously.

"Please tell me you don't just have cheese puffs and a monster for breakfast."

I scoffed, turning slightly towards, smirking slightly as I caught the way his eyes wavered for just a split second from my eyes to my naked form.

"It's my life, I could have a bottle of baby powder for breakfast and you couldn't do shit about it."

Jooheon rolled his eyes. "Cute, but I'm not buying that shit. I'm taking you out for some real food. You're going to eat something."

I barked out a loud laugh, incredibly amused. "Oh yeah? Or what."

Jooheon shrugged. "No dick for you, then."

"And? I can find plenty of—"

"Not like mine you can't."

My eyes narrowed. He had a bit of a point. Good dick, especially like _his _was a bit hard to come by and _maybe _I was a _little _bit hooked.

Still, deep down, though, I felt like that wasn't why I was doing it. It was the hopeful look in his eyes, his posture. I felt like despite his cocky attitude, he was still so hopeful in the world. In people. In me.

It wasn't like he wanted me to do crystal meth.

He just wanted to make sure I ate.

Which, in itself, even I had to admit, was pretty damned adorable.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You know what, fuck it.

Jooheon's eyes trailed downwards as I beckoned him forwards, spreading my legs invitingly.

"Only if I get a quickie before we go."

Jooheon chuckled, walking up to me and wrapping his arms around my waist as it stood between my thighs, grunting as he pushed his way inside me.

"You're insatiable." he hissed.

I smirked, without replying, burying my face into his neck, the hot breaths from my whimpers making him shudder as he rearranged my insides.

It felt good to be back in familiar territory.

Just sex. Simple.

Something I had complete and total control over.

Being weak for some guy?

Going out to breakfast with him?

That was the shit I had no interest in dealing with.


	7. //There For You

> ** _"Somewhere I lost a piece of me, smoking cigarettes on balconies. But I can't do this alone. Sometimes I just need a light. If I call you on the phone, need you on the other side. So when your tears roll down your pillow like a river, I'll be there for you. I'll be there for you. When you're screaming, but they only hear you whisper, I'll be loud for you. But you gotta be there for me too." — _ ** _There For You, Troye Sivan ft. Martin Garrix_

"You mind me asking what the deal with you and Zico is?" Jooheon drawled nonchalantly, eyes not moving from the menu in front of him.

I scoffed, keep the same indifference in my tone and body language as I scrolled through my phone, already knowing what I wanted to order.

"Don't play dumb, Jooheon, you know what the deal is. You've been going to the Slaughterhouse for longer than a year, you saw me and him together."

The once overcast skies were now showering rain. It wasn't pouring, but it wasn't drizzling either.

It was peaceful, seeing the raindrops stick to the window, blurring out the rest of the city, its vivacious illumination becoming nothing more than large, blurry bokeh lights.

Rainy days were heaven and hell for me. Relaxing, but memory inducing.

They always reminded me of my mother.

I could hear her child-like giggle as she twirled in the rain. I could see her blissed-out face as she dangled from the dark grey aerial silk, reserved specifically for rainy days. I could hear her beautiful sultry voice as I cuddled into her side on the covered patio, listening to fairy tales.

I'd always reserved rainy days for myself.

Spent the day in the studio suspended from an aerial silk or flowing to the beat.

It made sitting here across from Jooheon in iHop at nine in the morning even more jarring.

"Yeah, I did see you together. You were like Bonnie and Clyde or something. It was fucking weird, it was so intense."

He was looking at me now, menu forgotten on the table as he tried to deduce the situation from my body language.

I couldn't fight the urge to gulp, shifting a bit on the hard wooden seat beneath me.

"What's your point?"

"My point is you were inseparable one day and he disappeared the next. All of a sudden he shows up a year later and you hate him—"

"I don't hate him." I glared at Jooheon, jaw clenched.

He quickly backtracked. "Look, Promise. I'm not trying to get your business or anything like that. Just... just please tell me he didn't hurt you."

I snorted, giving him an amused look as I drummed my fingers against the tabletop. "Not the way you're thinking. And it definitely wasn't a one-way street. Nothing to worry your pretty little head over."

Jooheon rolled his eyes as the waitress came over.

When we'd ordered, silence descended over us as we both stared out the window, lost in thought.

"So, what does a certified badass do on her days off?"

I raised an eyebrow, turning my attention back toward a grinning Jooheon.

"Excuse me?"

"Well, you can't just walk around fucking, smoking, and being grumpy all day, you have to have some kind of day-to-day hobbies or activities or something."

I managed to suppress a laugh, but couldn't stop the small twitch of my lips as I peered at him.

"Yeah, like you're one to talk. You're ten times more intimidating than I am. When you're not smiling everywhere, that is."

Jooheon gave a big, exaggerated smile and I laughed, rolling my eyes as I took a gulp of my coffee, the hot liquid scalding my throat on the way down.

"I dance. I do acrobatics. I hang out with my grandma."

Jooheon raised an eyebrow.

"Wow, that sounds like a soft, wholesome person."

"Yeah, I also fuck a different person every night, have raging mental issues, get high off my ass every other day, and get a thrill out of carving myself up like a side of beef. Real wholesome."

Jooheon stared at me, the silence feeling much too loud amongst the din of silverware clattering against plates and tens of conversations all happening at once.

For the life of me, I could not figure out what possessed me to say that last part.

Drinking and smoking people could deal with, even sleeping around if you were a man. But cutting yourself?

That was the taboo people drew the line at.

It was too indecent, too explicit, too deliberate for their delicate sensibilities.

"Nobody can make you stop, but if you ever want to talk about it, I'll listen," Jooheon took my hand over the table grasping it tightly, "I may not understand, but I swear I'll listen."

I stared at Jooheon like he was crazy. Like he had sixteen heads.

It probably would have shocked me less than this.

He wanted to listen to me? He cared that I cut?

What the fuck is even happening right now.

"Please, dear God, tell me that you don't think saying stuff like this will mean you expect me to be indebted to you as your girlfriend forever."

Jooheon looked so offended, you'd think I just slapped him.

"God, no! You think I'm one of the 'nice guys'?!" He whisper shrieked, putting air quotes around the words.

"Ew! Gross! No! I'm saying this because I genuinely like you and you deserve a safe space you can go to when things get rough. I don't care if it's me or not, but I want you to know if it is then I'm totally fine with—oooh, food's here!"

Jooheon beamed as the waitress set the plates on the table and refilled our coffees, but I was still staring at him in awe, in another world completely.

He wanted me to have a safe space. He cared about whether or not I had a safe space. He was fine with _being_ that safe space.

Even with my Nana, I was always afraid that I'd tell her too much and overwhelm her. She meant well, but it was evident she didn't know how to deal with half the problems I had and got visibly distressed whenever they were brought up.

Jooheon, though. He seemed to take everything in stride. He understood that there were things about me that he would never understand, as with anyone. That's just how people work. He respected that.

For the rest of breakfast, I couldn't really find the words to say and ate my food in silence.

People always spoke as if sex was the highest form of intimacy there was, but—for me, at least— that was the furthest thing from the truth.

Because intimacy isn't skin to skin contact. It's not rubbing reproductive organs together.

It's sitting in an iHop booth. It's rain beating on the windows. It's silence as you eat. Silence that you don't need to fill.

It's someone grabbing your hand and giving you the choice to let them be your safe space and respecting whatever choice you pick.

I'd never had a real friend after my mother died.

I was terrified to start now.

But Jooheon deserved to be an exception. He deserved to be my friend.

Even more ridiculous, I actually _wanted_ him to be my friend.


	8. //I Have Questions

> ** _"Why did you leave me here to burn? I'm way too young to be this hurt. I feel doomed in hotel rooms, staring straight up at the wall. Counting wounds and I am trying to numb them all." - _ ** _I Have Questions, Camila Cabelo_

Walking into the studio, an hour after breakfast with Jooheon, felt ten kinds of refreshing.

Back in familiar territory once more.

At least, that's what I thought until I walked into the room I reserved only to find Jiho lying on the floor with his hands interlaced behind his head, earbuds in as he bopped his head lightly to the music.

I was so furious I thought smoke would come out of my ears at any moment.

Blood boiling, I threw my duffel bag in the corner of the room and marched over to him, swatting his ribs lightly with the toe of my Nikes.

His eyes snapped open, softening when he saw me glaring above him, arms crossed and toes tapping the ground impatiently as I waited for an explanation.

It only made me more pissed off.

How dare he look at me like that? Like nothing had changed. Like he cared. Like he didn't leave me.

"What the _fuck_ are you doing here, Zico?"

His mouth twitched as he sighed, sitting up and shoving the earbuds in his pocket. I could still hear the faint tones of Epik High blasting from them at an obnoxious volume.

"It's amazing how much you haven't changed. Still renting out the same studio on the same days. Still come to practice on your grey aerial silk on rainy days."

I bristled, shaking my head as I took a step back, fully prepared to turn around and walk out before I did something that would land me in prison. "No. Nope. Uh uh. I'm not doing this with you. Not today. Not _ever_. I'm leaving."

"Kesh, wait-"

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" I exploded, in a voice so high it could break the sound barrier.

"I didn't know if you were alive or dead. For an entire year, the only thing I had to tell me whether or not you were ok were music releases. You left me here alone and you didn't say _shit."_

He was looking down in shame now as he mumbled out, "I wrote you a-"

"I _know_ what the fuck you wrote me Jiho," I cried, for once not giving a shit about the tears streaming down my cheeks, "It was not enough! Writing 'I love you.' over someone's heart in motherfucking Sharpie in the middle of the night before you _leave_ them with no explanation is _never enough_!"

He was distressed now. I'd fucked up calling him by his stage name, but I was crying now. Sobbing, more like it.

He'd always hated it when I cried.

We'd had _countless_ fights, but few ended in tears, especially on my side. Whenever it did, the fight would instantly be over.

He'd pull me into his arms, rocking me back and forth, telling me how much he loved me. Running his hands all over my skin in the most gentle, innocent way possible, like he adored me as he told me that no matter how many fights we had, he was mine and I was his and it would be that way as long as we wanted.

Lies.

Lies, lies, lies, all of it, it wasn't shit but a big pile of lies.

You don't leave someone you love.

Not like that.

I wanted to pull away when I felt his arms around me, trying to comfort me in the only way he knew. I wanted to slap him. To shake him off. To leave him just as easily as he left me.

But I couldn't.

Because, God, I fucking missed this. It was what I'd prayed for at night sometimes.

When I sat, cold and alone, on the frigid bathroom role with blood leaking from my skin, I could see him so vividly, like a 4K Ultra picture in my head.

I could smell his scent, cologne and cigarettes. I could feel his long, tattooed arms, their strong hold around my waist.

I could hear his deep alto voice soothing me. Feel his touch, feathery and adoring, fluttering across my skin.

I could taste his soft lips on mine, kissing all the worries from my brain, distracting me with the intoxication of his taste.

I could see his face, comforting in its familiarity as he reassured me that it was us against the world.

And then the vision would fade away. And reality would set in. And I'd look around my bathroom and realize with a start that I was alone.

That Jiho was gone. He had left me. And I was all alone again. With nowhere to go.

And I would cut even more.

Those were the worst nights of my life. The nights where I'd come the closest to falling in my mother's footsteps.

To imagine my remedy so vividly that for a second I was all most cured, only to be knocked back into reality so hard that it made my head spin. Forced to remember that the very thing that once cured me was now another one of my ailments.

All because of Jiho.

But it was different now.

Because this time it was real.

His tattooed arms really were hooked around my waist, crushing me to his chest. His familiar face really was swimming in my cloudy, tear-obstructed vision. I really was hearing his deep alto voice whispering in my ear. I really could feel his feathery and adoring touch gliding across my skin. I really could breathe in his scent of cologne and cigarettes again.

Jiho was here. He was vivid and real and he wouldn't disappear. There would be no reality hitting me in the face, because this was reality and it was doing the complete opposite.

No matter how hard I tried wrapping my brain around the situation, it kept flying right over my head.

I'd spent so long having to drill it into my head that Jiho was gone and he wasn't coming back that I didn't even have a clue how to handle the fact that it wasn't true.

It was the best kind of torture.

"Why did you leave?"

Jiho didn't stiffen or pull away. It was like he completely expected the question.

"For you. Kesh, we weren't good for each other. We would have destroyed each other. I would have destroyed you. I couldn't live with that. I know it doesn't seem like it, but I love you. I always have and I always will."

I barked out a humorless laugh. I would have pushed him away if I had the strength.

"You think I gave a damn about that? I destroy _myself_, Jiho. It destroyed me when _you left_. The person who promised me he would never leave, that it was us against the world. The person I loved and trusted with my life left me. Without a word of explanation. That _obliterated_ me. I would've much rather had you here destroying me than leave me to face that alone."

Jiho opened his mouth to respond, but I shook my head, cutting him off as I pulled out of his arms, missing the warmth already.

"No. I'm sure I'll see you later, Zico, but right now, I just can't be around you. Please. _Please_ leave me alone right now."

Jiho gave me a long look, a million emotions flashing through his dark, narrow eyes that I did everything to avoid before he finally nodded.

"Jiho," I called tentatively when I saw him get to the edge of the room, through the mirrors of the dance studio.

He stopped.

"I love you too."

His body froze before he took a few steps backwards, towards me, and, without turning around, raised the pinkie finger of his left hand.

'_Promise_' was tattooed down it in pretty black cursive.

I couldn't even say anything, rendered completely speechless as he left the room.

_The apartment was silent as I sat, knees curled to my chest amongst the smashed dishes on the kitchen floor._

_I heard his footsteps before I saw them, his six-foot frame coming into view as he sat across from me, legs crisscrossed in front of him._

_Neither of us spoke._

_There was nothing to say._

_It had happened again. Some insignificant fight. I threw dishes at him. He punched a hole in the wall two centimeters from my head._

_I couldn't remember what we were arguing about, but I was pretty sure it was my fault this time._

_We'd been fighting even more lately. I was growing scared. I wondered how long it would be before he got tired of me. Went after someone who caused him less trouble._

_I picked more fights with him. Testing him. God, it was so stupid._

_"I'm sorry." I whimpered._

_He took one of my hands in his and laced them together, otherwise not moving._

_"I know. It's ok, baby. I'm sorry too."_

_"Do you still love me?" I sniffled, tears beginning to spill out onto the floor at the thought of it not being true._

_"Yes. Always." No hesitation. He sounded absolutely sure._

_I finally looked up at him, peering up at his handsome face through my tear-slicked lashes._

_"Always?"_

_Jiho smiled at me, shedding a few tears himself. "I fucking love you, ok? Nothing's ever gonna change that. No matter how many fights or whatever else happen, I always will. Promise?"_

_He used his left hand which wasn't intertwined with mine and held his pinkie up._

_I giggled at the absurdity of it all. At the fact that a god-awful pun based on my name and a pinkie swear actually reassured me so much._

_I laced my pinkie with his._

_"Promise."_


	9. //Angel On Fire

> ** _"'Cause they talk and drink and laugh about things. And fall in love in my backyard. I hide and cower in the corner, conversation's getting hard." — _ ** _Angel on Fire, Halsey_

I felt like shit the next day when my alarm went off. The only reason I heard it was because I fell asleep early and was already beginning to wake up anyways.

I groaned as I sat up, starting to stretch my arms over my head only to hiss at the way it agitated the broken skin there. I was starving, my body was numb, my arm was sore, and I was lightheaded, but I was determined to go to school.

While I did skip days and showed up late quite a bit, I made decent grades and was determined to graduate, though more for my mother and grandmother's sake than mine.

I was a junior and not at all interested in considering life after high school.

It was hard enough to get through the present.

Besides people like me weren't exactly depicted as having a bright future. Going to university? Getting a job? Settling down? Getting married?

I couldn't even imagine it and I almost didn't want to.

That kind of life didn't sound interesting at all, but what else was there? What other opportunities were there that didn't involve living on Daddy dearest's money and being tied to him for the rest of my life?

The more time that went on, the more it seemed like there was no way out except the inevitable.

I groaned, heaving myself up to stand as slow as I possibly could.

I wobbled on my feet a bit, joints sticky with disuse, muscles weak and cramped from spending the night blacked out on the bathroom floor.

I had to eat a honey bun and drink some orange juice to get my blood sugar going again then down a bottle of water to feel more like a human before I could begin the arduous process of showering, taking care of my arms, brushing my teeth, and cleaning the blood off the floor but finally I had it done.

I finger-combed my hair a bit, tying it back in a puffball on my head before throwing on a black cropped shirt and some sweats.

I located my book bag, going through and finishing up any homework and assignments that were due today that I hadn't already done.

I was half an hour late to first period by the time I had finished it all and gotten to school but, hey, at least I was there and all my shit was done.

The teachers were used to it anyway.

The first half of the day went by in a blur of boring lectures that I, in no way paid attention to, and assignments which I barely passed and before I knew it it was lunch.

The way loners were always portrayed in the movies, they were always thin white girls who were smarter than everyone else and probably had "guy" and emo interests like video games and Black Veil Brides and got ostracized and made fun of for it.

That's not realistic at all.

In real life, people get socially infringed for more sick reasons.

Like my deep brown skin, which offended the majority white student body.

Or my 3C and 4A curl patterns, which people, for some reason assumed they had the right to touch as they pleased.

Or the fact that my mom committing suicide gives me a high probability of being a "freak "as well (a paraphrase of something someone at this godforsaken school _actually_ said to me.)

Or simply the fact that I was a female who openly liked sex, with females as well as males, and wouldn't hesitate to refuse someone I wasn't attracted to.

There was also the fact that I had a generally unlikable disposition but that was understandable.

Safe to say, I didn't bother wasting my time in a cramped, loud cafeteria having to ignore taunts and nasty glares and instead opted to take my lunch outside, picking a picnic table on the edge of campus a ways away from the track and settling in there.

This was the spot where Daniel sometimes came to check on me. I wouldn't go so far as to say he's a friend, but he's the closest thing I have to one.

Well, I guess not now that Jooheon is in the picture.

I shook my head, trying to mentally reinforce my brain. Jooheon taking me out to breakfast and telling me he wanted to be my friend doesn't mean shit. People say a lot of things. People lie all the time.

He might be telling the truth, but I can't just take his word for it. Not right now. Time always has a way of telling if people are really serious about their words or not.

I couldn't get attached to Jooheon. Hell, attached didn't even _begin_ to describe what Jiho and I had been and he still up and left me like I was no more than yesterday's trash.

Jooheon would have no problem doing the same.

Until further notice, the only constants in my life are my grandmother, the Slaughterhouse, and Daniel. Kind of. I _need_ to remember that. The _last_ thing I could take right now is something is shattering me into a million pieces.

It wasn't long before I looked up and saw Daniel sneaking away from the main building, careful not to be seen by any of his friends as he headed over in my direction.

Daniel was a very respected person around campus. Involved in a lot of extracurriculars. Model citizen. High GPA. Probably getting a college scholarship. It wouldn't look good if he was caught rubbing elbows with the school slut who barely shows her face in class and has a major attitude problem.

I can't blame him. I wouldn't want to be caught dead with me either.

"Hey." Daniel smiled, eyes still swiveling nervously around the campus as he took a seat at the table.

I offered a small quirk of my lips in return, more energized now that I saw a friendly face but still not really feeling much up to talking right now.

School always depressed me.

I hated being surrounded by all these kids with friends and ambition and drive. Kids who had the support of others. Kids who had passions and goals and were working to make them happen.

It made me feel like such a failure, wasting my life away, destroying myself, and sleeping around.

Dancing was all I had but plenty of days I had so little motivation that it barely crossed my mind.

Daniel didn't mind that much that I wasn't talking.

Normally, when I felt like this, we'd just sit here in silence, letting the gentle breeze flutter through our hair and our thoughts wander.

Well, mine would. Daniel just kind of sat on high-alert, ready to make a quick escape.

"Are you doing ok?" He finally asked, as he always does.

I nod and he deflates in relief a little, smile a bit more relaxed at my lie.

Whether he actually believed that stupid lie or just wanted to fool himself into thinking things were that simple, I'd never know.

"Are you?"

"I'm doing great!" He launches in a speedy run-down of recent events, tests he aced, games he won, get-togethers with his friends.

I listened, completely enraptured, almost feeling like he was speaking a foreign language.

I always let him talk as I could see it made him visibly uncomfortable whenever my end of the conversation was being carried out.

I think he was always terrified that I would randomly actually talk about my problems or drop some deep suicidal shit that he wouldn't have any clue how to handle.

It was much more comfortable for him to lead the conversation and keep things on a playing field that he thought was even to both of us.

But it wasn't even at all.

I'd try to imagine myself in his situations, but that required a world in which my father wasn't a monster who drove his wife to suicide, a world where I didn't possess a myriad of mental problems.

The world I had to imagine to try and relate to Daniel was as great a struggle for me as the world he had to imagine to relate to me.

After about ten minutes, Daniel bid me goodbye and I finished my lunch, just sitting there for a bit more and trying to psyche myself up for walking back into that god-forsaken building.

I do end up skipping the period after lunch in favor of just sitting in the sunshine a bit more, but I still manage to go back after that and finish out the day.

An accomplishment in itself for me even if I just stared off into space for the whole lesson.

When I got out of my last class though, I knew something was off. People kept shooting me weird glances and whispering as I walked past.

But no one insulted me or tried to pick a fight. Actually, they were staying pretty damn far away from me.

It was only when I got outside and saw the long lean silhouette of a man wearing pretty much all black with a head of bright blue hair that I groaned in frustration, knowing exactly why everyone acted like I would sprout spikes from my head if they so much as breathed in my direction.

What in the everloving fuck is Jiho doing at my school?


	10. //Strange Love

> ** _"We wrote a story in the fog on the windows that night. But the ending is the same every damn time." — _ ** _Strange Love, Halsey_

"How did you even know I came to school today?" I grumbled, stepping in front of a smug Jiho.

The bastard loved to use his height advantage to look down the bridge of his nose at me in a way that once would have made me roll my eyes and hit his shoulder playfully. Now, it just made me want to sock him in the jaw.

"You weren't at the book store, your house, the dance studio, or the Slaughterhouse, so this was the only place left unless you were at someone's house."

I huffed a huge sigh, getting more and more agitated at the wary stares of students who were about to shit their pants at the sight of Jiho.

"Whatever, I have to go to the book store, get out of my way."

"I'm driving you."

My eyes narrowed as he twirled his keys around on his long index finger, whistling nonchalantly as he strut back to his car.

I gave myself a few deep breaths to calm down before following him to the car and climbing in the passenger seat, knowing he'd pester me until I did so.

The drive was silent for a time, but I could notice Jiho stealing troubled glances at my arms every now and then.

"Last night, did you—"

"Yes." I snapped.

His expression fell. His eyes stayed on the road, but it didn't look like he was really seeing at it.

"...Because of me?" He asked, his suddenly-small sounding voice cracked and I deflated.

I could feel a million flashbacks come crashing down on me at once. Tear filled eyes. Muscle numbness. The insecurities seeping out of the cracks of a tough, polished shell after one of us went too far with our verbal attacks.

I didn't want to say yes. Didn't want to put that guilt on him. But I didn't want to say no. I didn't want to lie. Isn't it partially his fault?

A part of me certainly blames him like it is.

I could feel the instincts surging through my muscles, urging me to run my hands through his hair, let him sob into my chest, hold him tight, kiss his worries away. All the remedies that used to work like a charm.

But things were different now.

We were no longer lovers.

We were strangers connected by the intimacy of what used to be.

All that hard work, breaking through each other's walls and gaining each other's trust. All of it for nothing.

In the end, all I could do was turn my head to the window and stare at the buildings that rushed past.

The most direct way to my nana's bookshop was a five-minute drive through midtown, but Jiho was taking the longest, most unnecessary way I'd ever been subjected to, getting off the exit ramp and onto the interstate.

"Are you seriously going all the way to the next exit, getting off, turning around, and coming back, just to prolong this conversation?" I looked at him is sheer disbelief, scoffing as I saw his triumphant grin.

"You haven't changed a bit." I grumbled, knowing damn well it wasn't true.

On the surface, he was the same but underneath it all, something had changed. He seemed more stable, more reliable. He seemed better.

The thought only made me feel worse. Were we so bad together that he had to abandon me for a year to get better?

"Was it easy? When you left?"

Jiho laughed humorlessly, the sound the human auditory equivalent of broken glass.

"Easy? I thought I'd go crazy. I managed to get myself out of the apartment, but I missed two buses before I could force myself to the airport. I almost went insane for the first few months. I kept seeing your face in crowds of strangers. Hearing you call my name when no one was talking. But the nights were the worst. It was when I missed you the most. When I missed _this place_ the most."

We were parked now, in the first parking lot off the next exit, It was relatively deserted, looking like the more run-down part of town.

I couldn't help but stare at his face. The face I hadn't seen in a year. The face that haunted my dreams. The face I never got to say goodbye to.

I don't know how it happened, but the next thing I knew, my mouth was on his and we were climbing in the backseat, clothes shedding at every turn.

What we did...it was different from anything I'd ever felt. Our hands roamed each other's skin. My name spilled from his mouth. He made my toes curl.

But despite its similarities, this didn't feel like sex, or fucking, or love-making or anything else that can be put into words.

Because through all the pleasure, we still sobbed. I still held him closer to me than I'd held anyone else. Because this was one of the saddest endings for us that I never could have imagined and never would've wanted to.

Sex could mean so much and it could mean nothing at all. That much had been made abundantly clear to me these past few years. If the two people were consenting, it could be used to substitute where words would never be able to suffice.

In Jiho and I's case, this was the farewell that should've happened a year ago.

This was every goodbye that we never had the chance to say. This was every tear we ever shed. Every fight we ever had. Every sweet whispered nothing in each other's ear. This was our closure to two years of violent affection and the year's worth of agonizing punishment that came afterward.

When Jiho's hips bucked and we both reached our end, I grabbed his face and crashed my lips to his, tasting the salt of the tears that streamed down his face and mine. I committed his taste to memory, knowing this would never happen again.

"That was the last time, wasn't it?" Jiho asked, carding his fingers through my hair as I stared listlessly out the tinted car window.

"For?"

"All of it. The sex. The kiss. Us."

I stayed silent.

I wished I could say that wasn't true. That we could fix this. That I could forgive him and forget that the past year of agony ever happened.

But we both knew that couldn't happen.

The people we had been before were certainly meant to be together in that destructive hurricane of emotions.

But the people we are now? They could never be together.

The past year had set each of us on a different path.

When those paths merged, as they are right now, they brought with them a whole new grey area of relationship territory that neither of us knew how to handle. Me, especially.

"Yeah. It's the last time. For all of it."


	11. //Clique

> ** _"Went through, deep depression when my momma passed. Suicide, what kinda talk is that? But I been talking to God for so long and if you look at my life I guess he's talking back. Fucking with my clique." — _ ** _Clique, JAY-Z, Big Sean, and Kanye West_

"Um, can I help you?" I asked when I saw Jooheon and all seven of his friends as Jiho and I walked into the bookstore.

They looked shocked at Jiho's imposing frame and I looked back only to see that he had that stone-cold face on that he always did when he met strangers.

I rolled my eyes, pulling him on by his ear roughly. "Get your ass in here and stop trying to be a badass. Either leave or go sort through the books till I get there."

Zico nods, immediately replacing the look on his face with a smile as he disappeared to the back.

Jooheon and his friends followed him with their eyes before turning back to me who was looking at them with crossed arms.

"Um, we were wondering if you wanted to hang out with us?" Jooheon asked, shifting from side to side.

My eyebrows flew up to my hairline. Out of all the things for them to say, I didn't really expect that one.

For a moment I was completely speechless.

A tall boy with platinum blonde hair giggled.

"I—you—you want to hang out? With _me_?"

The girl, whose name I still didn't know, giggled.

"Yeah, sure. Jooheon seems to like you pretty well, so we were wondering if you wanted to hang out with us."

I blinked.

What do people even do when they hang out?

In my experience, hanging out either meant sex, drugs, hanging out at the Slaughterhouse, or some combination of the options. I was kind of banking on the assumption that none of those would be happening right now.

"Um, h-hang out and d-do what?"

I cursed myself for stuttering like a socially stunted tween.

All of Jooheon's friends seemed shocked that I was even entertaining the idea and hadn't immediately turned them down.

"Uh, go out to eat and go see a movie? I don't know, we're all hungry but we didn't really plan past that."

I shifted uncomfortably, suddenly shy.

"I'm gonna be here for a couple hours." I mumble.

The blonde boy that giggled before waved his hand dismissively, "That's fine, we can hang out here till you finish."

I gave him a deadpanned look. "But....it's a bookstore."

"Yeah, fun. They like reading." Jooheon pointed to a short boy, the girl, and the tall guy whose arm always seemed to be slung casually around her shoulder.

"As for the rest of us, we saw some board games for sale in the back so we can busy ourselves with those."

I stared at them like they'd all grown a second head.

They all seemed so friendly and earnest. No hidden agendas, no malicious intent. So different from the other people I was used to being around.

I really really wanted to say no.

Getting involved with Jooheon was more than enough, much less his seven friends, five of which didn't seem to like me much to begin with.

But I was curious.

What would it be like to just innocently hang out with people? Have fun in a way that wasn't a danger to my health.

Just pretend to be a fully functioning person for a few hours.

"Jiho!" I called.

I heard muttered whispers of _"Who the hell is Jiho?" _before the devil himself appeared a few seconds later, eyebrow raised as he leaned against a bookcase.

"Set up a table in the back with eight chairs please."

Jiho nodded, disappearing again as Jooheon and his friends thanked me, some of them going off towards the board games and some towards the books.

I made a quick run to find my nana, smiling when I saw her short, plump frame hidden amongst the shelves, having dragged a chair up where she sat reading some old novel she'd probably already read a million times before.

My nana was tiny, a mere five feet on a good day, but had my same skin tone and facial features though her wild kinky hair was silver with age.

She was fiery, as most older women are, but also a huge nerd and wildly caring.

"Nana!" I called.

She looked up, startled, only to smile and rush out of her seat to come hug me.

She, admittedly, wasn't _that_ old and was still pretty mobile, but I liked to dote on her anyways.

"My little Promise! How are you? Did you go to school today? Why were so late?"

I smiled, slinging an arm around her shoulders gently. "Yeah, I went to school today. It was fine. I was with Jiho."

My grandmother didn't look, at all, surprised to hear his name so I assumed he'd already been by here and spoken to her.

"Who were all those people that were in here waiting for you? You're not in trouble, are you" She asked worriedly.

I shook my head, not even quite sure how to respond for a second, before finally settling on a weak, "They're just people I know that were wondering if I wanted to hang out."

A sparkled entered in her eyes as the words fell from my lips.

I rolled my eyes, bracing myself.

3...2...1.

"You mean like friends! You have friends?!"

My eyes widened at how loud she was — there was no way they didn't all hear her.

"Not so loud! I wouldn't call them _friends_ per se—"

"You have friends! I want to meet them!" she exclaimed even louder than her previous volume.

I could hear faint snickers and I only sighed as I saw vaguely saw through the shelves that they were lined up ready to buy their items.

Thankfully, my grandmother caught the hint and didn't try and follow. She only winked before turning to head upstairs and relax until my shift was over.

"Who was that?" a very broad and very good-looking boy asked, a smirk playing on his lips.

"My nana." I muttered, ringing up their items, cringing inward on myself as they snickered.

Five minutes here and I'd already managed to lessen my image by at least half.

"Oh, I forgot." Jooheon said.

"This is Ajiad and her boyfriend Hyungwon," Jooheon pointed to the girl and the tall lanky boy with his arm slung around her shoulder.

"That's Hoseok," he pointed to the tall broad boy who'd just spoken to me.

"That's Kihyun," he pointed to the shorter boy who had disappeared into the bookshelves with Hyungwon and Ajiad.

"That's Minhyuk." He pointed to the tall blonde boy from before.

"That's Changkyun." He pointed to a shorter boy who was very good looking but a little ditzy if the way he was ensnared in that Chinese finger trap was anything to go by.

He was jumping around like a lunatic, grunting and whining in frustration but the rest of them promptly ignored him like he never existed which led me to think he did stuff like this rather frequently.

"And then that's Shownu." He pointed to the very tall, very muscular dude with black hair and tan skin who hadn't said anything the entire time I'd known Jooheon.

While he was really intimidating with his hulking, imposing figure, but, he seemed more shy than anything.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Promise." I mumbled, handing each of them back their respective books or board games before stepping back away from the counter, rubbing my arm awkwardly with my gaze downcast.

I had no clue what to do in a situation this casual.

I felt like I was supposed to talk to them or say something, but I had no clue what, and even if I did, I could barely even _look _at them, let alone make friends like I'd been doing this my whole life.

Eventually, it got so awkward that they just moved away, back in the direction of the table I had Jiho set up for them.

I waited till they left to face-palm.

"That's the guy who fucking wrecked me the other night."

I jumped five miles in the air, clutching my chest as I stared wide-eyed at Jiho who leaned against the counter casually, eyes trailing in Jooheon's direction.

"Uh, yeah, his name's Jooheon."

"I know. He's an amazing rapper. He beat the shit out of me, can't wait till I can go against him again."

Jiho was trailing after me now, arms laden with books as I climbed onto the shelves, putting them away.

We were relatively close to the table that Jooheon and his friends were at and I was trying to be as quiet as I could, but still have Jiho hear me from where he was on the ground as we talked.

Until he casually asked, "So how long have you been fucking him?"

I choked, making a strangled noise as my head snapped down to where he was, looking at me curiously.

I could see Jooheon's table from here and they'd all stopped talking, trying to pretend they were still doing things, but obviously listening in.

"Jiho, what the fuck, shut up!"

"What? I mean, it's obvious you like him," I lifted my eyes to the ceiling, not moving from my spot standing on the shelf as I covered my face with my hands, hoping to whatever god there was that if I ignored it, it would go away.

Jiho didn't normally talk _this_ loud, but if there was one thing he loved, it was teasing me and he was well aware that they could hear every word of his, especially at his volume.

"— you're letting him and his friends stay in here for crying out loud!"

"Jiho, I will pay you to shut the fuck up right now."

"....But you didn't answer my question though."

"Oh my _god_, like two and a half to three weeks, now shut up!"

"Wait for real?" He asked, eyes wide as he ignored what I just said. "That's almost a month! _Ha_, his dick got you _sprung_—ow! That fucking hurt!"

"It was supposed to!" I hissed, glaring at Jiho, who clutched his face from where I threw a book at him to get him to shut up.

It seemed to work.

I could feel heat creeping onto my cheeks as Jooheon and his friends literally died of laughter and I hopped down off the shelf to drag Jiho by the ear to the cash register where I put him on customer duty to think about what he'd done while I went back to the bookshelves, swinging around and putting up books as I hid in shame.


	12. //Control

> ** _"Though I like the idea of permanence, I keep my mouth shut and try to speak when I'm able. Though I like the idea of you sleeping next to me, I'm waiting just to watch you go. I'm in love with control." — _ ** _Control, Verite_

Honestly one of the best saving graces to me in this situation was that Jiho didn't see it as his business to tag along.

He left after my shift was finished, giving me a lingering hug and a promise to return — as if I really wanted him to at this point — before nodding at Jooheon and his friends and disappearing.

Before I knew it, I had bid my nana goodbye, closed up the shop, and was sitting at the booth of Jazz's, a nearby hole in the wall I'd been to plenty of times before by myself or with Jiho but had never seen these guys at before.

It wasn't really awkward to anyone else but me.

Jooheon and his friends were obviously already close and had plenty to laugh and talk about, the playful banter flowing easily between them.

I wasn't really content to sit with my earbuds in — nothing would please me more than leaving — but I did it anyway as I was sitting closest to the wall with Jooheon, Wonho, and Minhyuk sharing the booth seat with me. It would be impossible to slip away without being noticed.

Nothing had really changed by the time we were finished eating, me just tagging along behind them, watching choreography on Youtube for ideas and noting what I liked as I walked beside Jooheon on our way to the movie theater.

I was so into it, I almost jumped when I felt two taps to my left shoulder, head swiveling to face the culprit as I took the corresponding earbud out.

I'd expected it to be Jooheon but to my surprise, it was the tall silent one, Shownu.

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to talk as he stared, brows furrowed and a light blush rising to his cheeks at my phone screen where the Youtube video was paused.

"I've seen you dance. You're really good."

"Uh, thanks."

There was silence after that, like the _extremely _awkward kind and I floundered for _something _to say to dispel it.

"So, do you like to dance too?"

Shownu looked a bit surprised that I was actually putting any sort of effort into the conversation, but nodded nonetheless, the gesture seeming to make him a bit less nervous.

"Yeah, I've been dancing for a few years now. How long have you been doing it?"

"I got into acrobatics when I was ten or twelve and dancing came not long afterward. I'm pretty sure I've seen you in the crowd watching at the Slaughterhouse. You don't do the dance battles though."

Shownu nodded a bit, cheeks turning just a bit darker.

"Yeah, there's a lot of good people there, I'm scared of making a fool of myself."

"Have you ever danced in front of anyone else before?"

"Not anyone besides them." Shownu gestured to Jooheon and his friends, walking ahead of us and sneaking not-very suspicious glances at Shownu and I, wondering what the _hell _was going on to make my antisocial ass talk to his shy one.

"Would you like to practice in front of me sometime? Might be easier to start out with one unfamiliar person instead of a bunch."

"I don't know, you're pretty intimidating in your own right."

I couldn't help but laugh. How many times had I heard _that _before.

"Yeah, I get it. If you ever change your mind, here's where to find me." I said, giving him the information about what studio I was usually at and on what days. It felt much more normal to discuss a business relationship or something I was familiar with like dancing than just trying to exist in random social situations where I had no way of knowing if I had anything in common with anyone.

It also helped when the person was even shier than I am.

"What movie?" Hyungwon asked as they all looked up at the showings listed.

Jooheon had wandered over to me at this point, acting like a small child as he absentmindedly played with my long fingers, tracing over the bruised knuckles, calloused skin, and short, fragile nails in fascination.

Between all the fighting, cutting, and general self-destruction, I'd never really had room to have pretty hands and it was one of my many insecurities. I'd been about to snatch my hand away and scold him when he grabbed it, but I happened to catch a glance at the way he stared at them, face full of fascination as his gaze traced over the skin, bending my fingers every which way and at some points giggling childishly as he flapped my hand around.

It was cuter than I would ever admit and I simply settled for pretending like he wasn't there.

He never had to know that if anyone else tried to do this, they'd probably catch a swift beating.

When I voiced that it didn't particularly matter to me what movie we were watching, they ended up picking some horror movie that had just come into theaters. I'd seen _more _than my share of horror movies and was currently living one so they mostly didn't faze me anymore with the exception of the first Paranormal Activity and fucking Candyman.

God, and the Human Centipede, though that was more because of how fucking gross it was.

Minhyuk, as cute and soft as he seemed, was bouncing off the damn walls at the prospect of a scary movie, at one point making a very disturbing comment about wanting to see certain body parts exploding out of the character's bodies in very violent ways that had all of us side-eyeing him suspiciously. Even more surprisingly, the only ones not on board with watching the movie were Jooheon and Wonho.

As hard and badass as they looked and carried themselves, apparently, they were the biggest scaredy-cats of the whole group, especially Jooheon.

Both of them were desperately clutching onto me before we even entered the theater because "You look like you could beat up the bad guys."

They seemed to forget that in real life, I was the fucking bad guy.

I had mixed feelings about this fact, but no time to focus on it as I was one of the three immediately on babysitting duty, carding my fingers through Jooheon and Wonho's hair as they trembled lightly against me and reassure them that nothing in the movie was real and that it couldn't hurt them.

I had to take Jooheon out of the theater multiple times, sure he was about to have a panic attack and Wonho was attached to my hip with gorilla glue during each and every trip, absolutely refusing to stay in the theater by himself — even though six other people were right there.

Meanwhile Shownu and Kihyun had their hands full making sure Minhyuk didn't get kicked out for all his hissed, malicious, and, frankly, really fucking creepy comments about the plot, acting, gore, cinematography, special effects, jumpscares, and literally everything else you could possibly commentate on about a movie.

Hyungwon fell asleep 40020658393 times while Ajiad lightly clung to his arm, scared but with way too much pride to admit it, much less wake him up to comfort her.

I admittedly was very caught off guard seeing this side of Jooheon and even more caught off guard by that fact that he was showing it to me.

I mean, he could have easily gone to Kihyun or Shownu or anyone of his other friends and gotten comfort from someone he actually knows but here he was, hiding his face in the neck of some bitch with an attitude problem and more mental issues than one could count.

Did he really trust me that much? Or was it nothing to him? Maybe he opened up to people all the time or this wasn't even opening up to him and he didn't give a damn who saw him petrified at the hands of a B-list horror movie.

I really hoped it was anything but the first option.

I was well aware of the fact that we'd agreed to actually make an attempt to be friends, but to me, that meant of the variety that hung out every once in a while not the kind that actually trusted each other and shared secrets and personal shit. If he actually had an ounce of trust in me or any such deep emotion, then I was gonna have to take a step back and give him a reality check before things escalated any further.

For now, though I just resigned to watch him closer and get through this damn film.

I disliked seeing Jooheon in distress way more than I cared to admit to myself.

Wonho too, which I wasn't even going to acknowledge, much less admit.

When the movie was over and we were walking out of the theater, Wonho was back to his tall, proud self, chest puffed out as he strutted confidently, throwing an "I don't know what you were so scared about, that movie was fucking lame." over his shoulder as if he didn't scream like an air raid siren during the last jumpscare.

Jooheon, meanwhile, was not even attempting to put up a front, still cuddled into my side as his eyes darted around the lobby nervously, like a ghost or serial killer would pop out at any moment.

"Do you get like this everytime you watch a horror movie?"

I asked as we popped into a small bakery down the street because someone wanted milk bread, someone else wanted mochi and I wanted both.

Jooheon nodded, protesting lightly for me to grab his wallet to pay as I swiped my card for both our milk bread and my mochi.

I rolled my eyes as we waited for them.

"You shouldn't have gone to go see the movie then." I said as he whined.

"I didn't want to be left ouuutttt."

I rolled my eyes once more, not gracing that with a reply as I shoved his milk bread in his mouth as we grabbed a table outside to eat at.

"It's not like you can talk." Jooheon said in a quiet voice where only I could hear.

"I'm scared of scary movies and shit and I still went to see one. You're scared of being alone, but you're alone all the time. But I guess that's why you agreed to hang out with us, even if you don't like people."

I froze, the skewered mochi halfway to my mouth as I stared at him, eyes wide out of the corner of my eye.

Jooheon continued to demolish his food, unaware of how disturbed I was as I stared at him.

With him making observations like that, it was _definitely _time to pull back.

It was a mistake to ever let this go so far.


	13. //The Blackest Day

> ** _"It's not easy for me to talk about. A half-life in lost dreams. And not simple, it's trigonometry. It's hard to express. I can't explain. Ever since my baby went away, it's been the blackest day." — _ ** _The Blackest Day, Lana del Ray_   
  


I almost never visited my mom's grave. It was too weird, standing on a ground filled to the brim with dead bodies and the high possibility of wandering souls.

It felt like I was too dirty, too impure to be there. Like my sins would awaken the spirits at rest and have them maliciously attached to me like dogs on meat.

But I also didn't like the thought of leaving my mother alone like that.

The older I got, the more I realized that was her whole motivation behind having a child. Nothing grand like raising the world's next cancer-cure or conniving like trying to trap my father and siphon his money.

She just didn't want to be alone.

I could at least grant her that last wish in death, or try to at least. Especially since I failed to keep her alive in the first place.

It was a hollow, indescribable type of pain to stand there in her mausoleum crypt staring at the big concrete box that housed my beautiful mother's decaying body.

To be right there with her and never be able to get through. To never be able to tell her all the things I was meant to. To never be able to work through our problems together. To never know what the last straw was that made her pull the trigger.

I drew my eyes to the corner of the crypt for a moment, trying to rid myself of the sting of tears building in my eyes.

I could tell my nana had been here recently. The flowers on the casket were fresh and the place had been dusted and tidied up.

No one ever came in here but me and my nana. My dad's rich circle never actually liked her and she was too depressed to make friends otherwise.

When my eyes cleared, I returned my gaze to the enclosement that protected my mother's corpse.

I wished I could have one of those long monologues. An apology. An update on my life.

But instead, all I had was tense, pained silence.

The one thing I could give her was a tradition of mine that I started since she died.

A small slip of paper left on her entombment with a single word on it to describe the gist of how things have been since the last time I came.

Written on the paper was the same word that I'd written every time I came since she died.

_Lost._


	14. //Bravado

> ** _"All my life, I've been fighting a war. I can't talk to you or your friends. It's not only you. My heart jumps around when I'm alluded to. This will not do." — _ ** _Bravado, Lorde_   
  


I wasn't scheduled for a fight that night but they managed to fit me in anyway.

I won. Fear, awe, money, the usual prizes. I gave my opponent the cash prize, went home, cut, and cried myself to sleep.

I wasn't scheduled for a fight the next night but they managed to fit me anyways.

I won again. More fear, more awe, more money. I repeated the same cycle, giving Jooheon and Jiho such a glare on my way out that they didn't dare approach me.

The next night, I actually was scheduled for a fight.

I won again.

And the next night and the next.

At one point afterwards, some bitch made a snide comment about how I put my body to use so much, it would only made sense that I could be able to win fights.

It took four grown men to pull me off her.

I won that fight too, escaping with a busted lip and a scratch on my eyebrow while blood was leaking from my unconscious opponent's probably broken nose, both eyes were black and would probably be swollen shut by morning, and I'm pretty sure I saw a tooth fly out of her mouth.

All these fights I was winning. Fight after fight after fight and I was winning them all.

So why wasn't it fixing anything?

Why wouldn't it make my dad notice me?

Why wouldn't it bring my mother back?

Why wouldn't it help me forget my mother's gentle fingers caressing my face, the soup she brought when I was sick, her soothing voice when she sung me to sleep, or her crinkling eyes when she laughed on her grey aerial silk in the rain?

I could make everything right in the present, correct my behavior, get straight A's, win every fight, be straight-edge as can be.

But it wouldn't bring my mother back. It wouldn't fix the past. Nothing would. The past would always be a broken, fucked-up, shattered mess so what purpose did that lead to the present? What hope for the future?

How much longer could I survive, feeling the ache of my mother's suicide and my father's absence in everything I did? Everywhere I went, it was always there, looming over me like a twisted, disfigured storm cloud, lightning strikes frying my every nerve.

Every year I felt this was during the anniversary of my mother's death and every time, it got worse. If it was this horrendous this year, what would it be like next year or the year after that?

How long before I end up with my skull blown apart and a gun in my hand, just like my mother before me?

Would anyone even care if I did?

"Promise!" I stiffened at Ajiad's voice, not even having the chance to turn before eight worried faces were suddenly converging upon me.

"What the _hell _is going on with you?" Hyungwon asked.

"You've fought every night for like a week, give your body a break!"

"You would've killed that girl if they hadn't pulled you off."

"I've never seen you lose control like that!"

But it was the look in Jooheon's eyes that kept me from hopping in my car and skidding away. He _knew_. One look in his eyes and I could tell he knew. Who in the fuck told him?

"Who told you?" My voice was low and cold, as hard as the stare I fixed upon him, but it didn't seem to really faze him as his friends quieted down, looking to him in bewilderment.

"Your grandmother. She told me to look after you. She knows you don't do so well around this time of the year. She's worried the next time she sees you it'll be in the obituaries."

I could feel my body trembling slightly.

I knew exactly why my grandmother wouldn't come out and express these worries to me herself. We both knew there was a tiny part of me, a part that I hated, that blamed my grandmother for not sucking it up, being the bigger fucking person, and mending her relationship with my mother. A tiny child-like part of me that thinks it might have saved her.

It wouldn't have been smart for her to come near me when I'm in this sort of state.

But for her to share this intimate mental trauma with someone without my consent lit a small flame of rage deep in the pit of my stomach.

"I know you think she had no right, and maybe she didn't, but she was as much her daughter as she was your mother. She chose to tell me."

I scoffed. "Oh, where was that energy when my mom was alive and it would've been useful?"

It was unfair, it was so fucking unfair to my grandmother and the words felt bitter and piercing as they left my lips but I couldn't stop them. I was so fucking angry. The whole situation was unfair. And the way all Jooheon's friends averted their gazes, obviously having caught onto what the conversation was about since people couldn't keep their goddamn mouths shut only spurred me on further.

"Everyone suddenly wants to care after the damage has been done! Is that why you're talking to me Jooheon? Huh? Your savior complex acting up now that you know I'm some mental patient with a death wish?" I was directly in his face now, the words coming out like teases making them so much worse than if I had yelled them. I could see Jooheon growing angrier with every syllable.

"Well news flash, I don't need my little fuck toy to pretend he cares because he feels bad for the pitiful broken chick."

_You dumb bitch, take it back, take it back right now. You don't mean it, you know you don't! You're angry, you don't mean it! He's not just a good lay, he's my friend! I actually care about him! I care about him and Ajiad and Shownu and all of them and you fucking ruined it! He's gonna leave now!_

The part of me that wasn't blinded by grief wailed at me for being so goddamn stupid, but it was too late, I'd fucking said it now.

Jooheon scoffed, not backing down, looking dead in my eyes as he hissed, "Honestly, you think I'm a fucking idiot? You wouldn't go to breakfast with someone who was just your little fuck toy. You wouldn't hang out with their friends, or let them meet your grandmother, or go to a movie with them or comfort them when they're scared. You did all that and more, I _know _you care. And I know that scares you, but it's ok to care about people."

It surprised everyone when Shownu was the next to talk, taking my hand in his gently. "This might be hard to believe, Promise, but nobody's here because they feel bad for you. We're not putting in this effort because we pity you. We're here because you don't deserve to be in pain like this and we want to make it feel better. Because we care about you and we're not going to leave you."

I was so glad that we were having this little heart to heart by my car in the shadows of the other side of the Slaughterhouse where no one could see this but us. Because that was the moment when I burst into tears.

It alarmed everyone but I couldn't stop, chest heaving with sobs, suddenly feel like a lost little kid again, not understanding what I did to deserve going from a constant companion to no one who gave a damn.

"D-Don't say that!" I snatched my hand away, suddenly so, so tired as I sunk to the ground, dust kicking up around me as I sat pathetic and ugly-crying into my hands like a little fucking bitch. "T-That's what Jiho said! That's what _everyone _says and _then they leave_!"

For a pregnant moment, it was only the sobs of my deep shuddering breaths and soft sobbing that broke through the midnight soundtrack of Slaughterhouse chatter, crickets, and distant city traffic.

Then I felt a pair of arms slowly wind around me. And another and another and another until I was smothered in body heat, the suffocating feeling of eight arms wrapped around me in a hug surprising me so much that I froze.

I could vividly remember the last time someone hugged me like this.  
  


_The clock ticked on, already hours passed since my father said he would be home. My birthday party was long over. No one showed up but I didn't care because Daddy said he would be here. Daddy promised. Daddies don't break promises. Not to their princesses, right?_

_So why had I stubbornly waited by the front door with Mommy since the minute I woke up and he still wasn't here? Why was it nighttime out and there wasn't even a phone call from Daddy to explain where he was or if he was or wasn't coming?_

_Why was I, a mere eight-year-old girl, sobbing on the cold, marble floor because I knew for the first time that my Daddy didn't love me. He didn't give a damn._

_I could hear my mother even two rooms down, words I got put in time-out for using being screamed with a hoarse voice at someone on the phone, presumably my father, for not showing up._

_It only made me cry harder, the cold of the polished marble floor sinking through to my bones filling me with a dragging, lifeless feeling that I wouldn't understand until I was older._

_My sobs were so loud I couldn't hear the sound of feet approaching, but I definitely felt the feeling of a soft, warm embrace enveloping me._

_It wasn't my mother but the maid who attended to my mother and I's rooms and hallways._

_I never knew Amarianna could bake, but apparently, she could and I gasped in delight when I saw the beautifully decorated two tier cake, decorated in a watercolor of blues and pinks, and purples, all my most favorite colors! Eight candles decorated the top and happy birthday was scrawled on the side of the immaculate cake that looked like it could've come out of a gourmet bakery._

_Who knew how long it took to make._

_I looked up at her in wonder, more tears collecting in my eyes as I blew out the candles giddily._

_Amarianna's smile was brighter than the heavens as she gently tapped my nose._

_"Smile, little love. It'll be ok. Someone will always care, even if it's not the people you think it'll be."_

_My mother never stopped thanking her for that day and it was the best birthday of my life sitting there on the floor and eating cake with plastic forks, blissfully unaware that two months after my mother's death, Amarianna would be fired for speaking my mother's name around my father's new wife and upsetting her._   
  


It felt alien to be embraced like this again, even Jiho never held me like these eight people I'd worked so hard to push away did. But yet I couldn't help but melt into it, too tired to care or to hold my tears.

And I continued to cry.

I cried for me, for my mom, for my grandmother, for Amarianna, for Jiho, for every cut I'd ever put on my wrist, for every time I'd wished my dad loved me, for every time I remembered the men that violated me so long ago.

And for the fact that maybe Amarianna was right after all.


	15. //Teenagers

> ** _"They said all teenagers scare the living shit out of me. They could care less as long as someone will bleed. So darken your clothes and strike a violent pose. Maybe they'll leave you alone but not me." — _ ** _Teenagers, My Chemical Romance_

I felt like shit the next morning, brain pounding against the confines of my skull. I could hear the steady cadence of multiple sleep-addled breathing patterns, creating a soft beat that lulled me to my feet, taking in the scene before me bewilderedly before my memory trickled back in.

By the time I finished crying, all my limbs were like lead, the events of the day rushing back towards me like a freight train and my brain was like molasses, all guards let down as I let all eight of them crash at my place.

I didn't particularly know how to react to the aftermath of that decision now that I had my common sense back, so I settled for padding to the bathroom for a hot shower cause boy, did I feel gross.

As the water cascaded through hair and over my skin, I tried to focus on simply cleaning my body in lieu of thinking about how fucking awkward this was about to get when the rest of them woke up.

I still didn't really know how I was supposed to feel. There was no way I'd be able to get them to leave now and even if there was, the stupid part was that I didn't _want _them to. I was tired of being alone and scared all the time, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to be hugged, I wanted to care about people, I wanted to be _normal_.

But then I'd think about my mother, brains splattered all over the oak paneling and red carpet and my mood would sour.

Did it really matter what I wanted when it was nowhere near what I deserved?

By the time I exited the shower, the whole bathroom was fogged and I could hear the chatter of my guests in my room as they laughed and joked around. I wasted no time in brushing my teeth, putting my hair up, and throwing on a bra and sweatpants.

I only realized my error when I walked out and an immediate silence settled over the room, eight pairs of eyes looking at my arms in horror and I froze, not at all sure what I was supposed to say.

Though my tattoos were all neat lines and minimal designs for the most part, both my arms had a full sleeve of them and that usually distracted the eye from the faded scars that lined my entire body. Sure, some of them were fresh or still in the process of healing but most people didn't notice those.

I wasn't used to people looking at them, to that jarring look of sadness that marred each of their faces. Instead, I croaked, "You guys can take showers if you want." and disappeared into the front room.

I didn't really hear movement from my room but I wasn't trying to, finding a random jacket on the floor and shoving it on before inserting my earbuds and blasting my music as I tried to finish up some homework and forget about anything that's happened in the past week.

Jooheon knew where spare clothes were from shit people had left over here and Ajiad could just wear some of my clothes, so I at least didn't have to worry about going back in there and facing them.

Unfortunately, my fragile peace and quiet only lasted a few minutes before I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Kihyun looking like a displeased mother who'd just looked around the house only to see all the chores still incomplete.

"There's no groceries. Or cookware. There's, like, one spoon."

I blinked.

"Um, yeah I know — wait, why were you looking through my drawers?"

Kihyun looked at me like I was stupid. "Cause I'm trying to make breakfast!"

I blinked once more.

"You're trying to cook? In this kitchen? Ha!"

I burst into laughter, tickled to tears at the mere thought of a home-cooked meal being made anywhere in here only to sober when I saw the dead-panned look on Kihyun's face.

"Oh...you're serious."

"Promise, when was the last time you ingested something that wasn't take out or junk food?"

"....Ummm...."

"Ok, get your stuff. Guys, come on, we're going to the grocery store!"

My eyes widened and I looked around wildly, an array of protests on the tip of my tongue, but the next thing I knew, I was standing at the checkout of the super-market scowling as Kihyun swiped my card, the cart piled high with all kinds of fruits, vegetables, snacks, boxed and canned food, drinks, cookware, and silverware.

"Oh, stop pouting, you can't seriously expect us to continue letting you live off cheetos and monsters, can you?"

I glared at Ajiad, Hyungwon's arm slung around her shoulder as always, trying hard to ignore Jooheon, Minhyuk, and Changkyun excitedly putting stickers all over my cheek as Shownu and Wonho loaded the bags into the car, Kihyun bossing them around as always.

"Um, yeah, I actually do. It's called minding your own business!"

Hyungwon just shrugs, smiling adoringly when Ajiad grumbles at the way the motion jostled her, pressing a barely-there feather-soft kiss to her temple as an apology. "That's something we've never been good at anyways."

They looked unfazed at the disgusted frowns Changkyun and I shot them at the affection.

I pouted the whole way home and continued to do so as I finished up my homework, religiously confining myself to a single corner of the room.

I wasn't really angry or upset at them and was pretty sure they could all sense it. It was more...confusion and a sense of not belonging.

It seemed like everyone had a place, Kihyun effortlessly gliding around the kitchen and directing a more than clueless-looking Shownu around the kitchen, Ajiad cuddled on Hyungwon's lap as they read from the same book occasionally giggling, Changkyun napping on the sofa, and Hoseok, Jooheon, and Minhyuk all playing some game on the dusty PS4 that sat unused in my living room for who knows how long.

Everyone fit some dynamic, a necessary piece of the puzzle that melded together to create a beautiful, functioning larger picture.

And then there was me, unwanted and unnecessary, drifting alone on the fringes.

My lips pursed and I capped my pen, slipping through the living room and into my room where I could break down without anyone seeing.

I don't know how many cuts in I was before the doorbell started ringing but it sure didn't feel like enough.

It was a real scowl on my face this time, annoyance coursing through my veins as I trudged into the living room, wrist dripping a trail of blood behind me as I swung the door open violently.

My scowl turned into a face of pure rage when I saw who stood there, looking around in disdain.

"What in the fuck do you think you're doing here?" I hissed to my step-mother.

She sneered, looking past me into the house and raising an eyebrow at the eight people sprawled over the house, silent as they took in the scene unfolding with apprehension.

"You're bringing your degenerate friends onto the premises now, huh?"

I think I actually snarled.

"I _dare _you to say something about them again."

Andrea rolled her eyes, but complied. She knew as well as I did that the only thing keeping me from strangling her was fear of my father but even that could only go so far. She was well aware that if she provoked me into a fight, she'd be in the hospital faster than she could blink.

"I came to tell you that your father is planning a banquet in a few weeks in your mother's honor and your presence is required."

Even Ajiad snorted.

"In my mother's— excuse me? Since when has he cared about her death?! He fired Amarianna for even _mentioning_ her name around you and you expect me to be dumb enough to believe he suddenly cares enough to invite his socialite friends who didn't even like her to a banquet in her honor? For God's sake, it'll be like two or three months after the anniversary of her death that _he_ helped cause!"

Apparently, Andrea's patience had run thin as her eyes narrowed, malicious blue irises glaring in boiling hatred.

"You ungrateful little whore, you should be glad he even has that worthless, mental bitch on his mind at all as weak as she—"

I don't remember spitting in her face but I'm glad it was my knee-jerk reaction as the look on her face was so much more satisfying than any physical violence I could have dished out.

I slammed the door before she could react, smirking at the sounds of her manic shrieking outside the door as she banged on the wood furiously.

"You goddamned bitch—"

"Get the fuck out of here Andrea or I swear to god I won't be responsible for what happens next!"

Andrea had always had a bit of a temper issue so it didn't surprise me when I had to duck to keep from being killed by one of the big thick rocks that lined the walkway as it suddenly launched through the window, extracting screams from all of Jooheon and his friends as the glass shattered exploding all over me and the floor.

I could still hear Andrea's enraged, chilling shrieks as she stalked away but not before I'd thrown the rock back, the jagged edge hitting her Achilles tendon, opening a huge gash across the skin there and weight of the rock probably shattering her entire ankle as she dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes, wailing in pain as she writhed in the grass, security emerging to see what the hell all the commotion was.

"_I FUCKING HATE YOU, I CAN'T WAIT UNTIL THE DAY WHEN YOU FOLLOW YOUR WRETCHED MOTHER'S FOOTSTEPS AND I CAN THROW YOUR CORPSE IN THE INCINERATOR WHERE YOU BELONG!_"

Andrea's voice faded as two security guards rushed her to the main house, the rest coming over to assess the damage in my corner.

Out of all the staff, the security probably had the least respect for her, still vividly remembering the time she broke my arm with her bare hands when I was a child for comparing her to my mother. Not to mention they'd put two and two together and figured out what happened when they saw me coming back home after that night she threw me out.

Most had never quite forgiven her for treating a child like that, but my dad was the boss around here and he apparently was ok with stuff like this so there wasn't much that could be done.

After I'd moved out here at the edge of the property, Andrea and I rarely crossed paths but when we did, it usually ended up something like this.

The only ones alarmed were Jooheon and his friends.

It was silent as one of the security guards used a pair of tweezers to remove the glass shards from my skin while another cleaned up the damage and called someone to repair the window.

When the guard came across the jagged, still-slightly bleeding gashes on my arm and the thick trails of blood slipping down my skin to my fingertips, I just shook my head, ignoring the way Minhyuk covered his mouth in horror as Jooheon's eyes sparkled with tears he hadn't yet shed. Hyungwon couldn't even look, holding Ajiad closer to him as she gasped.

"It's not from her, don't worry about it."

He ignored me, taking the first aid kit Kihyun produced from seemingly nowhere and beginning to clean and dress the wounds.

Two hours later, I had a thick band of gauze around my arm, the window was fixed, and it was silent as we all sat in the living room, having just finished an equally silent breakfast not too long ago.

A movie provided background noise to fill in the fact that nobody quite knew what to say.

I was the worst mix of embarrassed, ashamed, angry, bereaved, hurt, and sad, the cocktail of negative emotions forming a distasteful ball roiling in my stomach until I just couldn't take anymore and stalked to my room, slamming and locking the door before anyone could protest.

I didn't come out of the room or even move from my bed for the rest of the day.


	16. //Eastside

> ** _"Give me your heart cause I ain't gonna break it. So come away, starting today. Start a new life, together in a different place." — _ ** _Eastside, Benny Blanco, Halsey, and Khalid_

They were all already awake the next morning when I padded softly out of my room, despite the fact that it was only half past six in the morning, a thick blanket of inky darkness still ruling the sky.

It was strange, being apart of such a sleepy, hazy atmosphere, the rasped sleepy conversations and slow, languid, even clumsy movements filling the air with a warm, soft sense of intangibility that I'd never before experienced in my life, not even with my mother.

Wonho looked up when he saw me and gave a small, groggy smile as he handed me a mug. The heady scent of freshly brewed coffee wrapped around me, heat from the mug seeping through my sweaterpaws and warming my cold hands as a chorus of eight "Good mornings" filled my ears.

"Hey." my voice was scratchy and rough, and my red-rimmed eyes so prominent, I might as well have written _'I've been crying'_ right on my forehead, but no one commented, Ajiad and Hyungwon wrapped up in each other's arms and presence as they drank from the same cup of coffee (_ew_) as Shownu leaned against the wall, eyes shut but obviously not sleeping as Changkyun and Minhyuk talked his ear off about some anime they watched recently, Wonho guzzled coffee like an addict, and Kihyun read some book whose cover was unfamiliar to me.

"Can I hug you? I like cuddling in the morning." Jooheon's sleepy, soft voice behind me made me jump a bit as I added sugar, creamer, and soy milk to my coffee.

I sighed, not even having the heart, energy, or capacity to refuse, especially when the sun wasn't even up yet.

"If you have to." Before the words even left my mouth, Jooheon was attached to me like gum, chest pressed against my back, head resting against my shoulder, and arms wound around my waist. Short puffs of air tickled my neck, sending small shivers down my spine as I sipped the coffee and tried not to drown in Jooheon's fucking awesome scent.

God, he smells so good.

"Promise, have you ever been to watch the sunrise?" Ajiad's melodious voice broke through the early morning haze, prominent in the way I blinked, taking a couple of seconds to process her words before slowly shaking my head, continuing the drink from my mug and trying not to jostle Jooheon too much as I found he whined when I disturbed his position.

For a supposedly bad-ass rapper, he sure was a bratty little shit.

A quite likable bratty little shit but I suppose that's neither here nor there.

"We go sometimes when the sky is supposed to be really clear or when one of us just needs to get away. It's supposed to be really pretty today and I think you should come to see it with us. If you want." Hyungwon's sleepy voice was muffled from his position, holding Ajiad in his lap with his head buried in the crook of her neck as she lovingly carded her fingers through his hair.

I pursed my lip, trying not to stare as I looked down at the light color liquid swirling around in my mug.

Ajiad and Hyungwon were two of the nicest people but honestly, it made me uncomfortable to be around them for too long. I was unused to feeling so...jealous.

The way they looked at each other, gravitated around each other, touched and always seemed to look out for each other even when they weren't aware they were doing it....it was so nice, so pure, so fucking rare.

It was something I'd never have and never deserved to have.

"Please come with us?" Jooheon's voice was still soft and sleepy, more soothing and beautiful and attractive than any music I'd ever heard, except for his own though that was a fact I'd rather die than tell him. His slightly open warm eyes peered up at me from his spot on my shoulder, the deep, inky irises having an almost hypnotizing glint to them and for two whole seconds, I couldn't remember what in the hell Ajiad had just asked me.

"Sure, why not." I agreed before I knew what I was saying, heaving a huge sigh as I took a gigantic gulp of still scalding coffee to avoid both the pleased smiles beaming at me and the millions of reasons I could think of as to exactly why this was a bad idea.

I tried to ignore the butterflies having violent seizures in the pit of my belly as Jooheon's fingers traced little shapes into the exposed skin right above my hipbones.

Every time I thought I'd pinpointed how I felt about him, it seemed to shift into a whole range of territory I'd never even considered before.

He went from being a one night stand to being my favorite fuck to being a fuck buddy to being a friend with benefits to being an actual friend and now....now what?

The car was cramped, as you can imagine with seven fucking people in it. Minhyuk rode behind us on his Harley with Changkyun on the back, but even so, I had never been more glad when we made a stop at the auto shop Shownu apparently worked at to pick up his large flat-bed truck, their go-to vehicle for this kind of excursion.

They made this trip more often than I thought, if the blankets, pillows, and snacks stored in the truck were anything to go by.

Shownu drove with Kihyun in the passenger seat and Changkyun and Minhyuk in the back, the rest of us bundled up in blankets, hoodies, and pillows in the truck's flatbed, the truck's moderate speed allowing me to actually enjoy the way the wind felt on my skin and the sky looked above.

Even with Shownu's speed, it didn't take us that long to reach the edge of town, the truck slowing to a halt in a clearing where there had either been a fire or the majority of trees had been cut or burned and hauled away to make room for a construction project that would never come.

The ground was dark and blanketed by a layer of wood-chips and forest debris and it would be eery, unnerving even, if it wasn't for the people I was here with.

Minhyuk brought out some candles kept in the back of the truck and the glow they gave off made the previously creepy clearing turn a bit warm and even pleasant as the silence was broken only by the sound of munching or the occasional hushed whisper as we watched the sky.

This was the first time in my life I'd ever seen a sunrise. Usually, at sunrise, I was either hungover, skulking someplace I had no business being, or lying knocked out next to some dude whose name I couldn't remember.

This was much more preferable and though I'd probably never admit it, it was one of the few good decisions I'd made in a whole host of bad ones to come out here with them.

"Do you feel better?" Jooheon's voice wasn't sleepy anymore but it was still just as soft. He hadn't really let go of me, even after we left my house so I sat in his lap with his arms wound tight around my waist and my head resting back against his chest, eyes devouring the beautiful wash of colors across the dawn sky and determinedly attempting to ignore how much I never ever wanted this boy to stop hugging and caring about me.

How the fuck did we get here? How did I watch this whole thing falling into place and let it happen anyways, not just so I wouldn't hurt Jooheon's feelings but because I wanted him around just as much as he seemed to want me?

How the fuck did I let it go so far that I was used to not knowing what the fuck was going on in my own head in regards to a fucking guy?

What were these butterflies supposed to indicate? What was me actually enjoying, even craving his arms around me supposed to mean? What was agreeing to basically anything he wanted just so I would never have to see him sad supposed to tell me?

If it had been anyone else causing me this confusion, I'd have kicked them to the curb faster than week-old garbage. But not Jooheon.

Not those puppy dog eyes and that fucking innocent smile. Not the way he cuddles me, only seeking genuine comfort and contact with no ulterior motives. Not how scared he gets at scary movies and how he held me when I cried and made me feel safer than I'd ever felt in my entire life.

Maybe it was time to admit to myself that my fear wasn't of Jooheon hurting me and it hadn't been for a long time. My fear was that _I _would hurt _him _and turn that sweet, vibrant soul into a monster just like me.

But I didn't have to hurt him, did I?

Because I wanted Jooheon safe and happy, but I also wanted him to be around me.

So isn't the only option to try and keep him safe and happy myself? Just like he had done with me these past few weeks.

"Yeah. I think I feel a lot better."


	17. //Come Back Home

> ** _"Come back home. Can you come back home? Don't leave me at the end of the cold world but come back to my side. Come back home. Can you come back home? I'm pushing back all the pain. I'm still waiting for you like this." — _ ** _Come Back Home, 2NE1_

At school the next day, my mind was a jumble. I really, really wanted to renege on whatever made me internally agree to not only let Jooheon in but exchange numbers with him and all his friends and let them add me to their group chat which was 99% of the time being flooded by Changkyun and Hyungwon and their dumb ass memes.

Still I couldn't deny it was endearing as hell and a welcome change from only having a notification on my phone when some random person wanted me in their bed.

Nonetheless, it was enough of a change trying to open myself up to Jooheon, why was I unconsciously trying to do it with Ajiad, Shownu, and all the others?

In typical Promise fashion, the way I chose to deal with the problem was through distraction and since I was at school, the only available distraction was paying attention in class.

The look on my teacher's and classmate's faces when I actually raised my hand and asked a question like this happened every day was the most entertaining thing I'd seen in the past week.

I didn't even go sit out at the back to talk to Daniel at lunch. Instead, I found a secluded spot in the library and hunkered down with the material, filling my brain with the most recent material my class had covered in an effort to try not to have a complete break-down at how fast my life was doing a complete one-eighty.

By the end of the day, I felt strangely fulfilled at all the new notes in my notebook and diagrams in my head. I doubted it would become a regular thing, but at least I knew for future reference that it was a decent enough way to move my mind to a different track.

On my way walk to my grandmother's bookstore, I wholly considered just calling an Uber home and not even going. Truthfully, I was still pretty pissed at my grandmother.

It was anger that had been building up for years, ever since my mom died, and when she assigned Jooheon to watch over me like a helpless little kid and told him my business behind my back, that was the last bit of pressure the volcano needed to erupt.

I love my grandmother dearly, I really do, but I was absolutely sick of her solving problems like this. Trying to solve things with a twenty-foot pole because she either can't be bothered or wasn't brave enough to get involved and accept the blame when shit goes wrong.

As good as Jooheon has been to me, he can't help the situation with my mother, and Nana shouldn't be trying to drag him into it because she's too chicken to face me herself. I don't need Jooheon, I need her.

I need answers.

My grandmother didn't look particularly surprised when I barged into her loft above the bookstore, throwing my book bag to the ground and taking a seat across from her at the dining table.

She didn't meet my eyes, just continued sipping delicately from a tea cup cradled in her hands like it was the last thing tethering her to this earth.

I had never seen her hands shake this bad. I wanted to rewind time to a couple weeks ago when my anger was hidden deep beneath the surface and I was in no danger of hurting my beloved Nana's feelings or making tears run down her time-weathered face, but this was a discussion we needed to have.

A discussion _I _needed to have.

I was sick of running away from my problems and I knew my mom, wherever she was, probably was too.

Nobody else in my family seemed to be good at confronting their issues so it seemed I would have to be the first.

"How much of my business did you give away to Jooheon?" I started out, trying to keep my expression neutral, though, with the way Nana was avoiding my face at all costs, it probably wouldn't matter anyway.

"Just about your mother and your....coping habits." she winced, seeing the way my body tensed at the last two words.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It's just a conversation. We're here to clear the air, the last thing I need to do is blow up when I haven't even said two sentences yet.

"If you knew that I was hurting and in pain, why wouldn't you come to me about it yourself?"

Silence filled the air for a moment, broken only by the rustling of the hideous yellow patterned curtains, rustled by the breeze from the open window where a bright, sunny, cloudless day beckoned to the tons of pedestrians filling the shops and sidewalks.

My grandmother's mouth opened and closed again, like she didn't know what to say before finally settling on, "I didn't think you wanted to talk to me considering the circumstances. Promise...I know that you're still very angry at me about Rhapsody's death and —"

I desperately wanted to let her finish but at the sound of my mother's name, the most beautiful name I'd ever heard, and one that I hadn't heard in _years_, I exploded.

"No, I'm not angry at you, I'm furious! I'm _disgusted_! If you were so concerned about who she married, then why wouldn't you look after her! Why would you leave her to face that alone just because you were butt-hurt that she decided to give her career up? My mother was suicidal _long_ before I was born, you _had _to see it! All she needed was a hand extended to her! Someone to ask if she was alright, someone to care for her in the way she needed! She was your child, you should've been there, no matter what she did or what goddamn fight happened, _you should've been there_! Everyone wants me to trust that they won't leave, but how can I when I watch everyone, including me, falling apart around me because _no one seems to be there when they need them_?!"

Though my grandmother's head hung low in shame, I'd be able to see the tears dripping to the floor and the sobs wracking her body from miles away.

But for the first time, I couldn't go and comfort her. I didn't even want to.

All I could think about was my mother.

Some people who lost their parents at young ages lost their memories of them as they aged.

It was the opposite for me.

From the moment she died until even now, I could remember every single memory with pain-staking clarity, even memories that I hadn't even noticed until after the funeral when I wracked my brain for every single sign leading up to her death and noticed things I wouldn't have probably gone my whole life without seeing otherwise.

I remembered every single time I'd see her staring blankly at a fixed point in the wall, no life in her eyes until she saw me and plastered a big fake smile on her face to keep me from worrying. I remembered every single time she'd argue on the phone with my father and go rigid when she hung up, probably wanting to cry but not even having the life in her to do it anymore.

I remembered every single time we passed a person in the street and she looked at them with a strange glint in her eye like she desperately wanted them to see something, like there was something she wanted someone, anyone, to say to her.

My mother was a lot like I had been, parents absent in her life, abandoned by everyone she'd cared about, made to feel worthless by the man who should've loved her the most. Except she had a child to look after and put a fake smile on her face for. And eight friends never swooped in to help quell her loneliness.

In a way, even though she had me and it helped a bit, she _was _alone. I couldn't understand or help or comfort her. I was too young.

She was all alone until finally, she couldn't take it anymore.

And I wasn't sure if I could ever forgive my grandmother, my father, or anyone else who should've been there for abandoning her and leaving her to seek her last comfort in the revolver in my father's study instead.

I didn't realize I was curled on the floor sobbing until my grandmother entered my field of vision, crouching down to my level and not daring to touch me but looking at me with such a deep-set sadness in her eyes that for a moment, she looked just like my mother.

"Promise, I—" her voice cracked and broke off and it was a moment before she spoke again.

"I would say I'm sorry, but that would be an insult at this point. Nothing could ever begin to describe the...regret I feel for every single day that I didn't call my daughter. Didn't check on her. Didn't try to see you or her. Didn't help her or ask how she was doing. My pettiness made me fail as a parent and leave an innocent child—my own granddaughter— without a mother. When I saw you curled up at Rhapsody's coffin, I— I couldn't — I knew it was partially my fault and I couldn't stand it. You have every right to be angry at me and I'll have to live with this for every single day of my life. But please understand that I'm trying to learn my lesson. I shouldn't have put Jooheon in the middle like that, but I'm so scared. Every time the phone rings, my heart stops because I'm _terrified _that it's going to be the hospital on the other end telling me that you didn't want to be here anymore so you left."

"I _don_'_t _want to be here anymore!" I wailed, unable to see anything but my mother's gentle face swimming in my field of vision, "I just want my mom back! I want my fucking mom and she just —" I hung my head, burying it in my sleeves.

"I want Mom, Nana. I miss her."

"I know, sweetheart," the sobs head overtaken her body again as she embraced me, rocking me back and forth as her tears dripped into my hair, "I know, I miss her too,"

"Make her come back, _please_, I want my mom, _please make her come back_, Nana, please—" my sentence trailed off into broken babbling as I wailed into her shoulder, missing my mom more than I ever had in my entire life.

"I can't, Promise. I'm so sorry, but she isn't coming back."

I knew this. I'd known it for years. You can't bring the dead back to life, everybody knows this.

But those simple words made me cry even harder anyways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyyy, guys, it's the author here. Thanks so much for reading this far, I just wanted to take this time out to say some stuff.
> 
> If you have a friend or family member who you're not talking to over something silly or petty or easily fixable, please go remedy it with them.
> 
> If you have a friend or family member or even someone you just know is going through a rough time, please try to be there for them. I understand you all have your own lives and that other people aren't your responsibility but even the smallest thing can bring someone back from the edge of the cliff.
> 
> Suicide is a very sad and very preventable way to die and to anyone who's going through a rough time, please know that I care about each and every single one of you and my inbox is always open if you want to talk.
> 
> Below is a list of suicide hotlines around the world, please don't feel embarrassed to call one. I called the US one once and it was a major help.
> 
> Have a lovely day and please keep fighting cause I guarantee the light will come soon.
> 
> Argentina: +5402234930430
> 
> Australia: 131114
> 
> Austria: 017133374
> 
> Belgium: 106
> 
> Bosnia & Herzegovina: 080 05 03 05
> 
> Botswana: 3911270
> 
> Brazil: 212339191
> 
> Canada: 5147234000 (Montreal); 18662773553 (outside Montreal)
> 
> Croatia: 014833888
> 
> Denmark: +4570201201
> 
> Egypt: 7621602
> 
> Estonia: 3726558088; in Russian 3726555688
> 
> Finland: 010 195 202
> 
> France: 0145394000
> 
> Germany: 08001810771
> 
> Holland: 09000767
> 
> Hong Kong: +852 2382 0000
> 
> Hungary: 116123
> 
> India: 8888817666
> 
> Ireland: +4408457909090
> 
> Italy: 800860022
> 
> Japan: +810352869090
> 
> Mexico: 5255102550
> 
> New Zealand: 045861048
> 
> Norway: +4781533300
> 
> Philippines: 028969191
> 
> Poland: 5270000
> 
> Portugal: 21 854 07 40/8 . 96 898 21 50
> 
> Russia: 0078202577577
> 
> Spain: 914590050
> 
> South Africa: 0514445691
> 
> Sweden: 46317112400
> 
> Switzerland: 143
> 
> United Kingdom: 08457909090
> 
> USA: 18002738255
> 
> Veterans' Crisis Line: 1 800 273 8255/ text 838255


	18. //Night Changes

> ** _"Does it ever drive you crazy, just how fast the night changes? Everything that you've ever dreamed of disappearing when you wake up. But there's nothing to be afraid of. Even when the night changes, it will never change me and you." — _ ** _Night Changes, One Direction_   
  
  


Everything in the store was all closed up and Nana was upstairs sleeping but I didn't have anywhere to be or much of a reason to move from my spot yet so I didn't.

Instead, I opted for sitting at the table in the back where Jooheon and his friends sat, seemingly years ago. There was a nice, large window there where I could see all the people milling around and living their own separate lives, connected by an finite moment in time by a single street and a beautiful sunset sky.

It would be nighttime soon, but I didn't want to go home. God, I didn't want to go home. But I didn't want to go to the Slaughterhouse. I wanted to call Jooheon or Ajiad or Wonho or someone but at the same time I just wanted to be by myself.

My mind was no more closer to being clear than it had been a week ago. If anything it had gotten worse.

I didn't know what was going on and didn't even have much energy to fight it anymore.

I jumped as I came around the corner to the register and saw a tall, black-clad figure loitering outside the door.

I knew who it was instantly.

"What are you doing here, Jiho?"

Said boy looked up, and I raised an eyebrow at his now jet-black hair. I'd never admit the way it made my heart clench, reminding me of how things used to be. Of how there used to be one person in the world I could trust unconditionally.

"You like it? I just got it done a couple days ago. Had to keep myself busy while I gave you some space."

At that, I heaved a sigh. So much for some peaceful, confused alone time. I locked the door to the store and followed wordlessly behind Jiho as he led me down the street in the opposite direction of my house, deeper into downtown.

His arm was warm around my shoulders and his smell familiar as his body heat seeped into me, warding off the chill of the steadily colder days.

We walked for ten or fifteen minutes until we came to a modest apartment complex where Jiho opened the door for me and led me to the fourth floor where he apparently lived now.

"So you're here for good?" I asked as I stepped inside, reveling in the apartment's warmth.

Jiho scoffed. "You really think I would just try to insert myself back into your life if I was just going to leave again?"

At the withering look I gave him, he sighed.

"Ok, that's a fair response. Make yourself at home while I make some coffee. Do you still take yours the same way?"

I nodded and he wordlessly stepped away to the kitchen while I looked around.

Jiho had always, surprisingly, been good about packing and unpacking quickly so there were no cardboard boxes or stacks of items yet to be put away lying around, although it still seemed a bit bare in the way homes did when they hadn't yet had time to collect clutter or useless knick-knacks that you know you have no business buying and will never use but shell out the money for anyways.

The decor was all black and while with still accents of mismatched covers, action figures, albums, art, and DVDs organized neatly though I knew from experience they'd be in complete chaos in only a few months time and never get cleaned again unless someone else did it for him.

It fit Jiho perfectly but reminded me way too much of the apartment we used to share together.

A hot mug was thrust into my hands and I was being led to the sofa before I could protest — not that Jiho's stubborn ass would let me anyways, and I sighed as I taste the familiar, absolutely horrendous coffee that my tastebuds were well-acquainted with.

Jiho had always been terrible at coffee and I honestly had no clue how he managed to fuck up a simple drink so bad, much less drink the ones he made for himself, but I'd had more than enough experience choking it down and could swallow it like it was any other regular cup, even after all this time.

"Why did you bring me here, Jiho?" I asked after a few moments of uncharacteristic silence where he put me even more on edge with all his fidgeting, staring, and unnecessary coffee-sipping.

Jiho sighed — there seemed to be an awful lot of that going on today — and put his drink down, sensing that whatever it was, he couldn't put it off any longer.

"Promise, before we talk, I just want you to listen to something."

Jiho disappeared into a hallway and I heard mild shuffling before he reemerged, toting a laptop and a flash drive.

I knew it was an album before he clicked on the first song.

There were fifteen in total and apparently they were all composed while he was away. It was a whole mixtape made just for me, explaining every single thing Jiho felt he could never tell me.

The songs were beautiful, haunting, wistful, longing, empowering, and everything in between, taking me through a story of how Jiho had never felt the same thing for me that I felt for him. He cared, he loved me, he was fine with the sex, but something always felt missing. He couldn't give me the same love I gave him. He felt he was leading me on and that he didn't deserve me. He left both to spare me any more grief, to stop the guilt, and to try and figure out what in the absolute hell what was going on.

Except when he left, he felt even more guilty and missed me even more. I was the only thing he had, the only one who cared. It wasn't that he didn't love me, it was that he didn't love me in the way that I loved him and he couldn't understand why. Was he broken? Was he a terrible person?

What was wrong with him, why was he hurting me and himself? He became even more depressed.

But everything changed when he learned about being aromantic.

He wanted to come back immediately after, to explain everything, to apologize or leaving me, to start a new life with me where we weren't together romantically but could be beside each other again.

But he was scared. He knew how pissed I was. How much he hurt me and betrayed my trust. Not only was he scared to face me or hurt me even more, but he was also scared I'd hate him for being aro. Scared I'd think he was broken or was using it as an excuse or was stringing me along on purpose.

By the time the last song ended, the air still shimmering with a piano melody just finished, I was in shock.

Obviously, this didn't make up for everything, didn't change how much pain he put me through, but I understood him now. I understood why he left, I understood that it wasn't because of me, I understood the pain he was in, and I understood how sorry he was.

I didn't understand everything, only Jiho would. But I understood enough.

When I looked at him, he had his head hung, tears falling down his face.

I'd never seen him look so vulnerable and small and utterly terrified. It was hitting me how much it really took for him to tell me about him being aromantic. How terrified he was that I would judge him on top of being pissed at him.

"Jiho, I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me this. I'm sorry you felt so bad about something that was out of your control. I'm happy you figured out who you are and you being aromantic, honestly, doesn't bother me at all. I'm one hundred percent behind you on that front—"

Before I could register what was going on, I was being crushed in a bone-breaking embrace, a sobbing Jiho whispering out cracked, hushed thank you's with the happiest, most-relieved smile I'd ever seen on a person's face.

I didn't say anything more, letting him rid himself of every single thought of my being unaccepting towards his romantic orientation before we let this go any further.

Eventually, Jiho was able to pull away, disappearing to wipe his face for a moment before returning, red-rimmed eyes looking determined as he took my hands in his and looked me dead in the eyes.

"Promise, I know that I hurt you. I know that this doesn't fix everything and that you're still mad at me and I get it, you have every right to be. But I want you to know what I love you, even if it's not in a romantic sense. I want you to know that I've never cared about anyone else as much as you and that all I want is to see you safe and happy. I want to be back in your life and I want you in mine. I'm not going to just _tell _you that I won't leave you, I'm going to _prove _it. Each and every day I'm going to prove that I'm never leaving again unless you want me to. You weren't just my girlfriend, you were my best friend. I want that back."

My lips pursed as I looked at him, rolling my eyes as I pulled him into a tight hug.

"I'll accept on one condition."

A new light the likes of which I'd never seen entered Jiho's eyes.

"Anything."

"Whenever you feel like something's wrong, you don't run away from it. You come to me and we talk it out. Oh, and you have to buy me tortilla Espanola. Maybe throw in some paella for good measure."

Jiho's laugh was as loud as I remembered it being as his eyes crinkled, smile both blinding me and warming my heart and I knew in my bones that I never wanted things between me and him to be the same. I wanted them to better. I wanted us to stay together. It might take time, a whole lot of time potentially, but eventually, we'd be okay.

For some reason, I whole-heartedly believed him when he said would stay.

Jiho held out his pinky, the one with Promise scrawled down it and we linked them together. For once, the memory of the first time we did that didn't even enter my head.

"I promise."


	19. //There For You

> ** _"I got you, I promise. Let me be honest. Love is a road that goes both ways. When your tears run down your pillow like a river, I'll be there for you. But you gotta be there for me too." — _ ** _There for You, Troy Sivan & Martin Garrix_

This was such a stupid idea, this is stalker material, he's gonna think I'm a creep.

I bit my lip anxiously, staring at the dark wooden door in front of me where I knew Jooheon would be.

As much as I wanted to turn around, I was not lugging this heavy ass takeout back home and I definitely wasn't throwing it away so I swallowed my pride and knocked on the door before I could follow my instinct and back out.

There was shuffling and a thump from inside before the door swung open and Jooheon looked at me, clearly shocked out of his mind to see me standing there, a sheepish look on my face and eyes looking everywhere but at his pretty ass face.

"Promise? What are you doing here, is something wrong? How did you know where—"

"You mentioned where your studio was once and I heard Kihyun complaining about how you forget to eat all the time so I came to check on you." I mumbled, feet shuffling as I stared so hard at the tip of my Converse I could put a hole in it.

There was silence for a moment before I felt his strong arms wrap around engulf my frame and his fucking godly aroma envelop me. Jesus Christ, I know we don't see eye to eye but please do not let me faint right here in front of him.

"That's really sweet, thank you," he murmured, low voice in my ear putting every nerve in my body on edge and those goddamned butterflies in my tummy start up again.

I stuttered, trying to find something to say before finally thrusting the takeout into his hands and spinning to turn and walk away so I wouldn't make even more of a fool of myself.

"Promise, wait! You should come in and eat with me!"

Before I could refuse, and trust me, I was about to, Jooheon grabbed my hand and tugged me into the studio.

It was in a building of studios you could rent out and even though it was small, it was very homey and I could tell Jooheon rented this specific one out a lot, maybe constantly as there were small trinkets and personal effects of his littered about that just screamed Lee Jooheon.

In order not to get food near the computers or equipment, Jooheon pushed the chairs in and spread a couple of blankets out on the floor before pulling me down beside him and beginning to unbox the food.

"How was your day?" he asked, not commenting on the fact that I already knew what he'd want (Kihyun had been ecstatic when I informed him of my plan and asked what Jooheon would want) as he handed me the food he knew was mine and gave me a pair of chopsticks.

"It was fine—ow!"

I scowled at Jooheon who scowled back, still gripping the chopsticks he'd just swatted me with. "Don't give me that bullshit line. I want to _actually _know how your day was with all the _details_. Spill the tea."

I rolled my eyes, shoving some of the beef into my mouth and mumbling around it, "Fine, I'll tell you if you promise to make sure to never ask me to '_spill the tea_' ever again."

"Deal."

And that's how I came to spend a whole hour and a half telling Jooheon about how my last couple of days had been and listening to his. Normally, I would rather gouge my eye out with a ladle than having to sit there and recall events to someone, but it wasn't like that with Jooheon. He actually listened and made me laugh and cared about what I had to say and told me about himself not out of obligation or ulterior motive or the desire to hear himself talk, he genuinely wanted me to be informed and involved with his life.

We'd finished eating long ago, throwing the trash away in the nearest trash can down the hall and we could both sense that neither of us wanted to cut this time short so we ended up huddled back in his studio, me on the chair beside him, looking at choreographies on his tablet as I huddled into his side, absorbing his intense body heat while also cuddling into the blanket that was thrown around the both of us.

It was peaceful, just existing in the same room as someone, both doing our own thing but not being alone, just enjoying each other's company.

I'd never felt such comfortable silence before. With Jiho, silence usually meant we were arguing again and with my grandmother, silence was usually charged with things neither of us wanted to say.

But with Jooheon, it was completely relaxed, comforting even.

I tapped his shoulders, cringing at the thought of what I was about to say, but needing to let it out regardless.

He took his headphones off, looking down at me with a raised eyebrow. "What's up, you good?"

I tried not to smile at his concern and gave a small nod. "Yeah, I'm fine, I just wanted to say...thank you."

Jooheon's brow furrowed and he tilted his head to the side like a confused puppy. I tried not to aww at how heart-wrenchingly adorable he was.

"For what?"

"For everything. For caring about me. For trying to make sure I'm ok. For staying and making an effort. For not leaving."

Jooheon smiled, putting an arm around my shoulder and bringing my face to his chest where I didn't even try to conceal the fact that I was inhaling his scent — what fucking cologne does he use, he smells _delishus _— and smiling at the giggles he let out.

"I know a lot of people leave you, Promise, but that's not the way I roll. I really do care about you. I want you happy and healthy and showing that cute little smile and knowing you can come to me for anything you need."

I buried my face into his chest even more, feeling my face heat when he called my smile cute as I muttered, "I think I care about you too."

I would've been able to hear the teasing lilt in his voice from a mile away as he said, "You _think_?"

"Shut up, don't push your luck!"

Jooheon's laughter made me feel all warm and weird inside and I tried not to preen at the attention when I felt his fingers begin an aimless journey through my hair.

I could feel myself getting sleepier and sleepier. "Joo?"

He hummed in acknowledgment.

"Tell me about your family."

A beat passed and I wondered if I crossed a line before his chest vibrated with his soothing voice as he told me about his "mother" named Kihyun who worried all the time, his "father" that everyone called Shownu who was shy but protected them all very well and his four brothers and one sister who had been there for him through thick and thin.


	20. //Rise

> ** _"And I will not negotiate. I'll fight it, I'll fight it. I will transform." — _ ** _Rise, Katy Perry_

Declan Keshan is a six foot two, lean business mogul and billionaire with the world at his feet. His icy blue eyes can pierce your soul, dark brown hair always neat and tidy and he was not one for messing around.

Declan Keshan could be easily called one of the most powerful, intimidating men of our time.

Declan Keshan is a monster.

Declan Keshan is my father.

And he's standing right in front of me.

Icy blue eyes appraise me in thinly-veiled contempt as my father took in the child he hadn't laid eyes on in three years.

"You'll never find a suitable husband with those hideous tattoos covering your skin," was the first thing that came from his mouth as he stood, rounding the desk to stand before me.

Though our personalities were more similar than my father and especially I would like to admit, we shared few physical features except our ice cold glares and our mouths, currently shaped in cold, thin lines as we sized each other up.

I dont think I've ever actually seen my father smile.

At this point, I don't really want to. He doesn't deserve it.

"You've gotten taller." he drawled, eyes blank though there was a strange tone buried deep beneath his voice.

I scoffed. "It's been three years, one would hope so."

My father snorted, turning and mumbling something along the lines of "Not nearly long enough."

I maintained my poker face, ignoring the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

How could he not know how much words like that hurt? Did he even care? Or was it his intention to hurt me all along, just like he had hurt my mother until she no longer even wanted to live anymore?

Did he wish I would follow in her footsteps?

"Why are you here, I told you to go through the accountant if you want more money sent to your account." his voice was scolding, like my very presence was a nuisance to him and I should know better than he put him through seeing my face.

He wasn't even looking at me anymore, face buried in a stack of papers I didn't even remotely care enough to read.

I could feel my blood pressure spike at his words, gritting out through clenched teeth, "I'm not here for more money. I'm here for answers."

My father's eyes didn't move from the papers and his body language didn't change in the slightest. It was like he never even heard me at all.

If my mother saw him acting this way towards me, directly to my face, she would have burst into tears.

"Answers to what?" his voice was monotone as if he would rather be anywhere on earth than sitting in this room with me.

This would be substantially harder than trying to talk to Nana or Jiho. They actually cared about me and solving the issues we had.

My dad? He couldn't care less.

But I'd tried with everyone else, this motherfucker sure as hell wasn't about to escape his pseudo-reckoning. He deserved peace least of all. He had the most power to prevent what happened and not only did he do nothing, he didn't even give a damn about the damage that had been done.

He'd turned everyone else's lives inside out, why should he be the only one to not feel any consequences?

"Answers as to why you hated my mom so much, you couldn't bear to take two days out of your _oh so important_ week to be there for her when she fucking needed you."

My father sneered, otherwise unresponsive before he murmured, "I hope you get rid of that nasty cursing habit before it's time for you to enter the professional world."

I laughed humorlessly, the sound emotionless and grating against my ears like nails on a chalkboard.

For the first time in my life, I saw my big bad father, Declan Keshan, flinch.

"My nasty cursing habit, huh? _Please_, that's nothing, **_BITCH, SHIT, FUCK, CUNT, ASS, DICK_** —"

He slammed his pen on the desk, glaring at me with fire in his eyes now. We were in his downtown office and he knew as well as I did, there were plenty quite a few potential clients and colleagues in the building who wouldn't take too kindly to my potty mouth tickling their sensitive little rich people ears.

"What do I have to say for you to leave me the hell alone?" He hissed, finally at his breaking point.

A small part of me, left over from years ago, was quaking in horror. As a kid, I'd always been utterly terrified of my cold, imposing father.

Though it had dissipated some with age and sorrow, it seems there was still a bit of fear left over.

"You want me to apologize? You want me to suddenly pretend that I love you and that we're a happy little two-thirds of a pitiful family?"

I'd always known that my father didn't love me, he made it pretty damn obvious. But to hear him say it. To hear the words from his own mouth where I could no longer defend or rationalize or twist them into something kinder....it made me boil over just like he did.

At least I knew where I got my temper from.

"I don't want you to lie to me! I want you to be a decent human being for once in your miserable life and tell me why you sit there on your ass and let my mother kill herself! I want you to tell me why in the hell you hate me so damn much! I want you to tell me why you keep bringing all these people in your life with the promise of loving and protecting them when _all you do is let them down_!"

Before I knew what happened, I was on the floor, face throbbing from the hard as _shit_ punch my father had delivered to my right eye.

But little did Declan Keshan knew this little bitch is a goddamned street fighter.

Maybe if he'd ever paid an ounce of attention to me, he'd have known how my fighting worked and how to defend himself against me. Or that I could fight at all.

I wasn't surprised that my father was beating me, I was more so surprised that my words had affected him so much. That I'd apparently hit his soft spot so hard he flew into a blind, frenzy induced rage.

The shock (and pain of a now rebroken nose from his second hit) were the only reasons he was able to bust my lip and hit my jaw.

After that, instinct kicked in and when I snapped out of it again, I'm pretty sure Daddy dearest was sporting a couple broken ribs, a concussion, and a fractured ankle in addition to his own busted lip, two black eyes, broken nose, and probably a busted eye.

The receptionist's eyes bugged when she saw me stomping towards the exit and she offered to call an ambulance, or the police, but I only waved her off, not sparing her a second glance as I stalked out of the building, and down the street in the direction of my grandmother's bookstore.

My body was sore, trembling, and on complete autopilot, but my mind was clearer than it had in years.

Everything made sense, every piece of Declan Keshan's puzzle snapping into its rightful place.

Declan Keshan wasn't soulless or a monster. He was me.

Me pushed to the absolute extreme, but still me.

He was terrified of letting people in. Terrified of letting people down. It was that fear that led to him emotionally abusing my mother and neglecting his child but it didn't save him, it only made things worse.

Now he's terrified, guilty, and angry.

Declan Keshan isn't one of the most powerful, intimidating men of our time. He's a terrified little boy, blaming and bullying the world so he has something to project his guilt into in order to avoid taking responsibility for his actions.

Declan Keshan is what I'll be if I don't clean up my act. Alone and a monster, hurting everyone I should be protecting in order to avoid the guilt and fear of letting them down.

I won't become like my father.

I fucking refuse.


	21. //bellyache

> ** _"Thought that I'd feel better, but now I got a bellyache." — _ ** _bellyache, Billie Ellish_

Have to say, I wasn't particularly expecting ten people to be waiting for me when I returned back to the bookstore, but at this point, it wasn't like it was particularly surprising.

Still, I was hoping to have as few people as possible know that my father had actually put his hands on me and now it seemed that everyone I knew would be in on it.

The bookstore was silent as a tomb as my sock covered feet (I'd taken my shoes off right outside the door) padded across the unpolished wood. It was mid-afternoon, only about three or so so the sky was still as bright and clear as it had been previously.

The round table that Ajiad, Jiho, Jooheon, my grandmother and the others were crammed at was in the back corner of the bookstore by a window, which most of them were looking out of.

While I hadn't expected all ten of them to be here, I did, however, expect my grandmother to be here and had opened the door as quietly as I possibly could to avoid alerting her to my presence.

She was usually in her apartment at this time so I had planned to clean myself up at the the register with the first aid kit we kept there, but there was no way they wouldn't hear me pittering around over there, so my only other option was to sneak upstairs to the loft bathroom.

Despite how old the place was, the floors had been redone a few years ago and I'd been here long enough to know where the loud spots were and how to avoid them.

Unfortunately, halfway up the stairs, Jiho happened to turn around and catch me in the act.

His gasp at the sight of my battered face caused the other's heads to snap in my direction, eyes widening in horror simultaneously and I could only sigh in annoyance, cursing Jiho with every word of profanity I had stored in my vocabulary.

"What happened?" Nana cried, flabbergasted eyes following me as I huffed, turning to continue up the stairs, stomping now, as I tried to ignore the ten people clamoring and shouting behind me.

I didn't care what they thought at this point, as long as no one put two and two together.

My father had done a lot over the years, even hit me a few times, but this was the first time he had actually _beat_ me.

And the way it looked, he hadn't been planning on stopping anytime soon. If I didn't know how to fight, if I hadn't been street fighting all these years....he already made it clear he didn't love me, who knows how far he would've gone or if he would've even felt an ounce of remorse afterwards.

I wasn't, in any way, prepared to face that mentally, much less to hear someone else, no matter how close to me, just carelessly toss the words out of their mouth.

At the top of the stairs, I broke into a mad dash towards the bathroom, throwing the door closed and almost breaking the lock in my haste to twist it.

I could still hear them scolding me from outside, but I didn't care.

Reality was setting in hard and I was not ready to face this, not in a million years.

I drowned them out by putting my earbuds in, the soft sounds of Für Elise filling my ears as I wiped off all the blood, wincing at the pressure it out on my swelling face.

I didn't see any way around going to the hospital, not with my nose cocked at such an unnatural angle and my lip probably needed stitches.

There wasn't really much I could do with the first aid kit and I knew that, but it didn't stop me from sitting on the edge of the bathtub anyway.

Half of me hoped that when I came out of the bathroom they'd all be gone. Sure, it would mean they didn't care, but at least there wouldn't be any embarrassment or humiliation. No one would have to know my dad hated me or that apparently when it counted most, I couldn't win the battles that most needed to be fought.

I'd be alone, but at least no one would know how weak I was.

My heart skipped a beat when I opened the door and saw no one there, only to pick back up when I heard the hushed whispers coming from my grandmother's small kitchenette.

No such luck, huh.

Or perhaps the other way around, I'm still figuring stuff like that out.

When I emerged into the kitchenette from around the corner, face blank and form hunched in shame, Jiho took one look at me before his gaze darkened.

"Your dad..._he_ did this?"

Well, couldn't say I was particularly surprised.

"How did you know?"

"That time he backhanded you and you came over mine...he left that same indent in your cheek. Must have been wearing the same ring."

Nana's eyes were sorrowful as she hung her head. She and I both knew it was his wedding ring from when he was married to Mom.

"Wait, your _dad_ beat you?" Hoseok repeated, looking ill.

I scoffed as I made my wait to one of the drawers where the sandwich bags were kept so I could make an ice pack.

"_Declan Keshan_ beat me. It would seem I don't have a father. He said so himself."

Nana's head snapped up, eyes glaring. "He said that?"

"Technically, he said he didn't love me, but same difference I suppose."

It was silent for a moment but my back was turned, so I didn't have to see the reactions that came from the words I had said. If I wasn't so bitter, so mad and in need of an outlet and people to talk to, I never would have said it in the first place.

I didn't need to see the looks of pity that I was sure would be etched into their faces.

I didn't bother resisting as I felt gentle hands spin me around and Jooheon's face filled my vision. He seemed to be the one that recovered fastest as, out of the corner of my eye, I saw eight bodies frozen in shock and one, Jiho's, trembling slightly in barely restrained rage.

Jiho had been there the last time my father hit me, which sparked our three year estrangement. He'd been pissed then, but now he looks as if he might actually kill someone.

"Let's go get that nose patched up, yeah?" Jooheon smiled, though it didn't touch the sadness in his eyes.

Still, I could see it was more for my sake than his and I was glad he wasn't making a scene out of it.

And that he cared at all.

So I nodded.

Everything else could wait until after the hospital. I don't think anyone in this room was well enough to do more than take things one small step at a time.


	22. //Birds

> ** _"You know it ain't easy. We gotta keep holding on. I will fight your battles even with my broken bones. You know it ain't easy. We gotta keep holding on." — _ ** _Birds, Izii ft. The Powder Room_

Despite my less that medically ideal lifestyle, it had been years since I had seen the inside of a hospital. The last time I could recall had been when I was about nine or ten. My mother had gotten a minor fracture in her forearm once and we had come to get it looked at.

I don't remember the actual consultation and fixing. It was adult stuff and I'd been busy with a Magic Tree House book, too absorbed in the imagination surrounding the visiting of the Eiffel Tower to pay any attention.

The part, however, that stood out vividly in my mind was when we were leaving.

A man in funny light blue clothes that I now knew to be surgical gear stood talking to a rather frazzled, harrowed looking family.

I wasn't close enough to hear what he said, but anyone in a ten mile radius was close enough to hear the loud, pain-stricken shriek that the older woman, most likely the mother of a probably now-dead patient, emitted.

It was a cry that chilled me to the bone, even at such a tender age, and for a moment, the world around me stopped. For a moment, time froze in a waiting room full of fifty people who all stood petrified in horror of that godforsaken cry of a mother who had lost her child.

My mother had quickly led me out of the waiting room when she recovered herself, but it took half an hour to make me stop sobbing into her coat.

Now, everything was different.

Now, I had no mother to soothe me as people with minor scrapes and injuries milled around in such close quarters with those destined to die soon at the hand of a terminal illness, those anxiously awaiting news of their loves ones left in the hands of a stranger, those bringing new life into the world, and those still reeling from the loss of someone they can never replace.

I'd only come twice and I already hated hospitals.

It didn't take long for a doctor to do what he needed to do.

My face was cleaned thoroughly, pain-killers prescribed, tips given on how to make the swelling go down quicker, and a date set for four days from today when I would return for closed reduction surgery.

Turns out my dad had been even more pissed at me that I thought. His hits were even harder than they felt at the time, full of hate and damage.

Doctors were very concerned about who'd beat a teenage girl so bad until they realized whose daughter I was. Suddenly all talk of charges and police and incident reports vanished, merging instead to tedious medical talk and a strange lack of paperwork.

But I didn't care, I wanted out of that place even more than they wanted to see me leave.

They didn't even ask for a guardian's signature or anything before I was sent on my way.

Obviously, ten people couldn't be crammed into the exam room with me — plus, me being who I was, the doctors might have fainted at the prospect of so many witnesses — so Nana, Ajiad, Jooheon, and the others were subject to sitting in the waiting room until I was finished.

I couldn't help the smile on my face when I saw the cheeseburger and caramel frap Jiho had waiting for me from the McDonald's near the waiting room.

"Wow, for once you make yourself useful." I joked, taking a huge bite of the burger and trying to ignore the multiple intense stares boring into my skin.

Jiho flicked my nose, ignoring the multiple loud protests and my indignant squawk of pain, brows furrowed and mouth set in a hard line that told me that he was pissed the fuck off.

Oh, boy, was I about to get an earful.

The ride back to my grandmother's bookstore was depressingly silent — or would have been if I hadn't shoved my earbuds in the moment my ass hit the car seat.

Once back at the bookstore, Jiho told me in a voice that left no room for disagreement to tell them everything that happened from start to finish. And so I reluctantly did, as quick as I could possibly speak.

Unfortunately, they seemed to catch it all.

My grandmother looked thorough disappointed and sorrowed, but Jiho — though obtaining a murderous glare in his eye whenever my father was mentioned — looked strangely proud.

He knew how big this was for me. To go from crying my eyes out and defending him when my father hit me last to beating his ass even worse and being as accepting as was presently possible for me about my father's true nature was a big shift, one Jiho had been wanting to see for a long time.

However, Jooheon, Ajiad, and the others — not used to how father my father's anger and apathy could sometimes go — were even more furious than they were before I had opened my mouth, Changkyun, Shownu, and Jooheon in particular.

Makes me wonder what their fathers were like.

For about one whole minute no one quite knew what to say.

My grandmother had, ten minutes into my story, been forced to retire to her bed, actually feeling sick at what I'd said and as she was the least awkward among us besides Jiho — who was too upset to be his normal tension breaking self — we were left just sort of twiddling our thumbs in either disbelieve silence or the simmering anger of those three who seemed to be a bit _too_ familiar with abusive fathers for my liking.

The silence continued Kihyun got up to make those who hadn't eaten a sandwich. He claimed it was last their lunchtime and a fucked eating schedules fucks your body up but I suspected it was just his way of dealing with what was going on.

I, however, was no longer angry or bitter or simmering.

I was confused.

I could somewhat understand why Jiho was here, but the rest of them completely baffled me.

They had been put in multiple situations of distress or discomfort due to my fucked-up life, from my multiple breakdowns to what happened at the Slaughterhouse to practically witnessing my self-harm to that fucked-up Andrea incident to now in the aftermath of actual physical abuse by my own father.

They were constantly being here and babying me when it was so glaringly obvious that these situations made them uncomfortable.

Why?

I didn't pose the question aloud, having at least enough social instinct to know that now _definitely_ wasn't the time.

It wasn't until half an hour later, with four or five barely touched sandwiches being the liveliest things in the room that _Shownu_ of all people said, "Let's have a spa day!"

For a millisecond, there was nothing but bewildered silence before everyone, even me, agreed in a heartbeat.

Strangely enough, I knew it wasn't my fear of becoming a mistrustful, lonely, and abusive carbon copy of my father that drove me to agree to hang out with them in my time of need.

I knew that I actually wanted to. These people made me feel _better_. They were my _friends_ and I _liked_ them and I _liked_ spending time with them.

But since I still had no clue how to accept those feelings or the trust that went into them yet, I just compartmentalized, buried them, and pretending they didn't exist as I locked up the store and followed behind with my trademark blank stare donned on my face.

Seeing my father's face made me realized how similar this face was to his but what terrified me most was that I'd been wearing it for so long that I had no clue how to get off.


	23. //History

> ** _"Minibars, expensive cars, hotel rooms, and new tattoos, good champagne, and private planes. But we don't need anything. 'Cause the truth is out. I realise that without you here, li_ ** ** _fe is_ ** ** _ just a lie. This is not the end. This is not the end. We can make it, you know it, you know." — _ ** _History, One Direction_

Strangely enough, though Ajiad and I could be considered to have the most in common, she is simultaneously the one I'm most comfortable with and the most disturbed by.

Ok, maybe disturbed isn't particularly the right word, but she just kind of...I don't know how to describe.

As stupid of a phrase as it is, I'm right in saying that it's not her. It's nothing she's done, it's all me.

Some part of me looks at her and thinks, "Maybe if Mom had had a daughter like that, she'd still be here."

It's stupid and unfair.

I don't even know enough about Ajiad to make claims like that.

But still, it doesn't take more than a surface analysis to see she's got me outstripped in every single way.

She has more friends, can actually make social connections with people, is kind and compassionate. She doesn't hurt people in some stupid attempt to shut them out.

She actually has a healthy relationship with someone she trusts.

She's everything I hoped I would miraculously turn out to be and everything I ended up straying furthest from.

She's admittedly not at all who I expected I would end up being alone with — I honestly didn't think she and Hyungwon could even exist without being glued to each other's side — but I wasn't complaining, even though I was feeling a bit squeamish in the giant massage chair next to hers.

Still, I tried to relax as she, Changkyun, and I sat getting pedicures at the most expensive and high-end spa we could find on Google Maps.

It was understood that I was paying.

The sound of the faux waterfalls lining the stone walls and New Age music filtering clearly through the expensive speakers calmed as much of the tension in my body as it could as I sat, trying not to burst into laughter at the person continuously messing with my feet.

Changkyun was all the way on the other side of the room, brows furrowed and tongue peeking out in concentration at whatever video game he played on his PSP as he got his toenails painted black. Having come in earlier, he was already nearly finished and his feet looked as fucking gorgeous as feet could look.

Ajiad was trying not to laugh as I fidgeted and fussed, trying my best to stay in one place for the slightly-amused, slightly-annoyed technician doing my feet. Probably the only reason they hadn't told me off yet was because they could tell I was trying my best to remain as still and quiet as possible.

I couldn't help it.

Despite my demeanor, I was actually ticklish on my entire fucking body and just really sensitive to touch in general, but _especially_ my feet.

"I never would have pegged you for someone so ticklish." she giggled.

I opened my mouth to respond, only to let out a loud guffaw when the technician touched the arch of my foot.

The sound startled everyone in the room, Changkyun having to pause his game to laugh at my tomato-red face where my hand had instinctively clasped around my mouth and my eyes were wide in horror.

Ajiad was laughing too — albeit not nearly as loud as Changkyun — and our nail technicians were trying to continue their jobs without snickering too much.

I just kept my dumb mouth clamped shut until the nail part was over and our feet were soaking in expensive oils and rose waters and god knows what else.

Changkyun had left about ten minutes ago and it was just Ajiad and I both lost in our own worlds.

It was silent for a moment before Ajiad said, "Be honest. You care about Jooheon, right? I don't care in what way, I just want to make sure you care. That he's not setting himself up to get hurt. He's like a brother to me."

Without looking at her, I nodded slowly. "I do. I didn't expect to but I do. Unfortunately, I seem to care about all of you."

I don't know why I was telling her this. This wasn't something I would tell the guys or my nana or even Jooheon or Jiho.

There was just something about the way Ajiad looked at me, spoke to me, smiled at me that made me feel like it was ok to trust her.

Maybe that was part of what scared me about her. It was like we had some weird deeper connection beneath the surface that I didn't really understand.

Maybe there were things about my past that were similar to mine. Maybe that was why she seemed to understand me so well.

"Unfortunately?" she repeated confusedly.

My mouth set in a hard line and I stayed quiet. I didn't really know what to say or how to explain.

Finally, I just settled on a lame, "Things have just been a bit...difficult...for me since my mom..."

The unspoken end of that sentence hung in the air like the stench of despair and in the corner of my vision, I saw Ajiad's shoulders slump like the weight of the world weighed heavy upon them.

I had the sudden instinct to hug her, to comfort her and tell her everything would be alright like she had done for me before. The sudden urge was so foreign to me that for a moment I felt actual terror.

"How did she die?"

My brows raised as I finally was able to look at her only to see the horrified look on her face as she floundered to correct herself.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that! I just—"

"No, no, it's fine, it's just, well, you _know_ how she died."

Everyone did, I thought bitterly.

"I know that she committed suicide, but going out that way...there's usually a story behind it, you know?"

Yeah, I do. But, Ajiad, how do _you_ know?

I was frozen for a moment, mind running a hundred miles per hour as I bored holes through Ajiad's head, contemplating on whether or not I would actually let this go that far.

The only person that knew details like that was Jiho and it had taken at least a year for us to reach that point. I'd only known Ajiad for a couple months.

But who said there were rules to this kind of thing? And even if there were, when had I ever been one to follow the rules?

I found that instead of having to force the words out, they just spilled from my mouth, like they had been waiting ages to spill out.

With every syllable my lips formed, I could feel my head and heart getting a bit lighter. With Jiho, I'd never really told him, he'd just figured it out on his own.

I'd never actually....talked to someone about my situation before, never. Even when my mother was alive and I wanted my father's love desperately, I never said anything or mentioned it for fear of breaking my mother's heart even more. Maybe I cried sometimes, but it wasn't the same.

I had never in my whole life just sat down and..._talked _to someone.

No one had ever really wanted to.

But Ajiad...she actually cared.

Sitting there beside me in some rich people spa, just a lost kid herself, I could tell that she looked at me and actually listened. Ajiad actually cared.

Sure, she had said it before, but this was the first time I actually _believed_ it.

And just when I thought this day couldn't possibly get any crazier, Ajiad looked away, took a deep breath, looked me dead in the eyes and said, "My mother killed herself too. It was because of my big sister, Adelaide. She was pregnant, almost due to have the baby even. I was gonna be an aunt."

Her eyes turned glassy and adoring as she let out a fragile smile, ears filled with tears, "My neice's name was gonna be Jai. She would've been the prettiest little girl, just like my sister."

I could feel cold dread settling in the pit of my stomach as Ajiad's eyes took on a hardness I wouldn't have even been able to imagine on her if I hadn't seen it for myself. Suddenly, more than wanting not to hear this story, I wished it never happened in the first place.

I didn't know what I was about to hear, but I already wished it never happened.

"But her boyfriend...he used to beat her. No one saw it and one day when I was on the phone with her, he pushed her down the stairs. We drove as fast as we could but when we got there she was already..."

I felt sick to my stomach, thinking about twisted limbs folded over a rounded belly full of life, put out in an instant and all for...for nothing.

A mother, daughter, sister, a _human being_ dying with her unborn baby by the person who should have loved them the most.

I didn't realize I was crying until I felt the soft sleeve of Ajiad's long sleeved shirt wiping the tears from my cheek.

Even when there were no longer tears running down my face, I found that for some reason I couldn't let go of her hand.

"I don't necessarily believe in heaven," I began slowly, still trying to get control of myself, "But I do think that there's a place where people like my mother and your mother go after...after they're finished here. Where they can be happy, after a long time of being so sad here."

Ajiad's voice was small, almost child-like as she said, "Do you think Addie and Jai are there too? Do you think I'll see them again? That I'll ever get to meet Jai?"

"I'm sure you will. And she'll be asking if you have any games on your phone _all_ the time."

Ajiad laughed loudly despite the tears in her eyes and I could easily see why Hyungwon was so in love with her.

A beat of silence passed before Ajiad said in a quiet voice like she was afraid I was going to mock her, "When we go....wherever we go after this, I hope you can come meet them."

I gave a lop-sided smile. "Well, you've got the invitation to come meet my mom but heaven forbid there be rainy days in the afterlife or else she'll force you into an aerial silk all day."

Ajiad laughed even louder and for the first time in a long time, I saw a possibility — albeit a very slim one — that maybe, _just maybe_, everything would be alright.


	24. //Rise

> _**"So I call on my angels. They say, 'Oh, ye of so little faith. Don't doubt it, don't doubt it. Victory is in your veins. You know it, you know it. And you will not negotiate. Just fight it, just fight it. And be transformed.' Cause when, when the fire's at my feet again and the vultures all start circling, they're whispering, you're out of time. But still, I rise." — **Rise, Katy Perry_

"Long time no see, huh, Promise?"

I looked up, startled, only to let out a small, albeit slightly awkward smile when I saw Daniel standing in front of me, his normal amicable face only the tiniest bit tainted by a look I couldn't quite pinpoint.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Truthfully, I hadn't really thought about Daniel much, which was weird for me as usually our ten-minute lunchtime rendezvous where I listened to him recount what a normal life was actually like were the only things that got me through the few hellish school days I showed up to endure.

But recently, I had found that though the school body's opinion of me was exactly the same and I'd made no new friends despite showing up more frequently now, school was more bearable than it had ever been.

That's not to say that I suddenly loved going or that I showed up every single day, but my track record was certainly better than it had ever been in recent years.

Daniel looked a bit uneasy as he set his bag down on the ground and plopped onto the seat across from me.

I set my phone down in an effort to not look as rude as I was feeling internally and we both were trying to ignore the incessant buzzing as my phone lit up with text after text.

Eventually, Daniel couldn't help blurting out a, "Who's that?" in the most forced nonchalant tone I'd ever heard.

I raised a brow, shrugging and mumbling out a vague, "No one." as I shoved the device in my pocket.

Truthfully, it was Hyungwon and Changkyun spamming the group chat with memes, but I didn't see how that was any of Alex's business, and I really didn't appreciate the look in his eye. Not the surprise that I had people who would actually want to contact me in the first place and definitely not the curious excitement like he hoped I was doing some really criminal thing that he could get in on to spice up his life.

Daniel gave me a long look, but didn't press the topic and we went on about our usual routine.

But somehow, as I listened to him drone on and on about whatever he and his friends had been doing for the past week, I just couldn't get into it like I used to. It just wasn't interesting.

Granted, their lives probably were better than mine from an objective standpoint, but suddenly, I was struck by just how _boring_ they all sounded.

Jiho might not be considered an outstanding member of society but I just couldn't picture my life without him, much less a life looking down on him just because he was a bit rough around the edges. Not him or Jooheon or Ajiad or any of them.

I couldn't imagine not working a shift in my grandmother's bookstore every day and swinging on the shelves.

I couldn't imagine not going to the Slaughterhouse to fight or dance.

Granted, I could definitely imagine a life in which my mother was alive and my father wasn't an asshole and I wasn't riddled with mental illnesses and self-harm issues — however, fake that life seemed now — but otherwise, my life without all the frowned upon elements in it just doesn't seem worthwhile.

As I listened to him, it struck me that his words no longer had their effect on me because I wasn't fascinated by them anymore.

I didn't necessarily want to be _me_ but I sure as hell didn't want to be _them_.

When lunch was finally over and I was Daniel free, I was walking past the empty classroom a few doors down from my next class when I heard his voice along with multiple others. Normally, I wouldn't even bother but it was the sound of my name that made me pause.

"—that bitch, Promise. I wouldn't even bother with it except that I've heard she's an amazing fuck."

I almost snorted. Daniel thinks he's going to get the privilege of ever finding out how good of a fuck I am? Chances were slim to none even before this, but now he's definitely just going to have to spend the rest of his life wondering.

"And have you seen her actually pretending to pay attention in class now? Pathetic."

Not Daniel's voice, so apparently him and his friends just get together and bitch about me. Still, what's wrong with trying to pay attention in class?

"I just wish she would stop coming to class. It's not like she'd actually going to graduate. She's the dumbest bitch around. Only good for lying on her back."

"I bet you fifty bucks she fails out senior year."

"I bet you a _hundred_ she fails _this_ year."

My brow furrowed as I backed away from the door, absent-mindedly ambling towards my class, not wanting to hear the rest of the bets about when I'll prove how stupid I am.

I don't know why I was being affected like this.

People had always thought of me badly, that was nothing new. But just...hearing it like that. I'm used to people thinking I'm a slut, but to hear them say that I'm such an idiot it's pathetic for me to even pretend to pay attention?

How many people are going around making bets on when I'll fail?

And to think I was planning on letting them win.

How long before they stop making bets about when I fail and start making bets about when I...

You know what, challenge accepted. I've let these sick freaks have their fun making a side-show out of my life for long enough. Time to show them I can own this school just like I own the ring and the bedroom. Not with my dad's money or influence, just me.

There were only a few kids milling around my American History class when I walked in and Mrs. Jefferson was grading papers at her front desk, not a care in the world until I stepped up and suddenly her face morphed from focused to slightly terrified.

"Miss Keshan!" She exclaimed, looking like she was doubted whether or not I was actually in front of her.

"Mrs. Jefferson, I'm gonna cut to the chase. I know my dad's paying all my teachers and this school to keep a record that says I make passing grades and don't have too many absences."

Mrs. Jefferson's eyes widened, frantically looking around to make sure no one had heard before looking back at me like she wanted nothing more than for this conversation to end. "Yes, that's — that's correct."

"Well, thing's are different now. I want to earn my grade. Not just hide behind Declan's money."

Judging from the look on her face, that was the last thing she expected for me to say. I let her get her bearings for a moment before she finally said, in a tentative voice, "Well, the only thing I can think of would be to reassign all the homework, tests, and quizzes you've missed. And I'm sure you don't want to—"

"When can I get all the work?"

Just when I think she can't look anymore shocked she proves me wrong.

But she concedes easily enough. Some of my teachers do as well, some need a little convincing, and some straight up need extra financial compensation for all the extra grading they'll have to do which is more than fair.

By the end of the day, I was more than a little overwhelmed sitting in the school library and looking at the huge stack of papers I'd printed that I have to do by the end of the week, thinking about the reading I had to get through just tonight I felt almost like maybe Daniel and his cretin friends were right.

Maybe all I'm good for is lying on my back after all. What was I thinking? As if I could even do this normally, much less have to catch up on all this work while simultaneously keeping up with what's going on in class now.

Before I knew it, I had Jiho on the phone, my confident asshole persona was long gone, and I was on the verge of a complete breakdown.

Despite the fact that his apartment was at least twenty minutes away, it was only three minutes later that Jiho's tall, worried-looking frame rushed into my field of vision, rough hands wiping away my tears.

"Promise, just calm down. Deep breaths. That's it, come on."

Slowly but surely, my breathing began to taper off into steady, even breaths.

Jiho glanced at the huge pile of work before us and didn't even ask any questions, just took the sheet at the top of the stack and pushed the rest aside.

For a second, he looked like he might burst into tears. Jiho dropped out when he was sixteen and my education something we spent many long nights arguing about as I was near doing the same thing at one point.

To see me doing this must have made him feel some kind of way but he didn't even mention it.

Just helped me get through the worksheet one question at a time.

For the first time since he came back, I realized just how glad I was to have him back. No matter what Jiho and I's relationship is, we'll always be family.

As long as I have him and Nana and Jooheon and all my friends — fuck, I actually have friends — then I think I can actually fucking do this.


	25. //Teenager In Love

> _**"You call me Queen. You're in ripped jeans. And you just pulled up to a love song. Hearts in my eyes. Strawberry skies. Beat up Corvettes, smelling of cigarettes. But time keeps on slipping. You make me feel like a teenager in love. And you make me feel like I'll be forever young. And I don't want no, nobody else." — **Teenager In Love, Madison Beer_

The library was completely silent except for the clacking of keyboards, the rushed scribbled of pen on paper, and the flutter of pages turning. Jooheon's chest was warm and sturdy against my back as I sat, cuddled very contently in his lap with his arms wound around me holding my Physics book upright as we both read, whispering occasionally to discuss bits of the text or which parts we need to highlight.

Jooheon was a year older but had been held back in eighth grade so we were both juniors and had a majority of the same classes. Kids with bad grades don't have a lot of class options.

I don't even really know how I ended up curled in his lap in the first place. When we got here two hours ago, we'd been sitting a respectable distance away from each other, across the table as a matter of fact. Then I moved beside him to ask about a concept in the chapter and next thing I knew my head was tucked under his chin and his jacket thrown around the both of us as a makeshift blanket, feeling more safe and sound than I had since Jiho left.

Fuck fancy items and expensive sofas, Jooheon's lap was as luxurious as luxury gets.

I jumped a bit as my phone vibrated, skittering across the table a bit with the force of the movement.

Since Jooheon's arms were already on the table to hold the book up, he grabbed it and handed it to me, trying to be sneaky in his nosiness as his eyes cut not-so-subtly across my shoulder, trying to see the text.

We both knew what it was.

My phone was on silent except for the text notifications I got when a new grade had been entered in the grade book.

I tried to calm my now-speeding heartbeat as I opened my messages, my whole operating system seeming to run slower than usual though I knew it was just my anxiety making it seem this way.

I'd just taken two tests recently, a makeup for Algebra II and a current one for Physics, both my worst subjects. Studying for both of them ran me ragged and I was so jittery throughout them that I was sure I'd failed both.

I don't know if I'd be able to take seeing a failing grade right in my face right now.

"So what's the verdict?" Jooheon asked, sounding almost as anxious as I felt.

I turned to him beaming, practically shoving the phone up his nose as I whisper-yelled "Ninety-one and ninety-five!"

Jooheon broke out into an equivalent smile, dropping the textbook and winding his arms back around me, this time in a warm, tight hug. "That's amazing, Promise, you're so fucking smart, I knew you could do-"

Jooheon's voice cut off, eyes widening as my mouth connected to his.

I'd kissed him before, plenty of times obviously, but this was different. Nothing like our lust or anger filled kisses we'd share before having sex to forget one trauma or another.

This was different.

It was soft, barely there. Like this kiss you shared when you had a major crush on someone and they scrambled your brain so much that you could barely think straight and didn't know what the hell you were doing.

It was a few milliseconds where nothing happened, I was about to pull away and run out, but then he responded, eyes closing with mine and fuck, it was a kiss so sweet and pure and full of emotion rather than lust. I'd never experienced anything like it. I wanted it more, I wanted it all the time.

I didn't want it with anyone else, just him.

I'd always been so scared of feeling anything for Jooheon other than lust but now, fuck that, this feels amazing. I want all the emotion he could throw at me.

Maybe I'm still a little scared, but I'm infinitely more scared of ever letting him go.


	26. //Trip

> _**"I put my feelings on safety so I don't go shooting where your heart be. 'Cause you take the bullet tryna save me. Then I'm left to deal with makin' you bleed," — **Trip, Ella Mai _

I was a pretty heavy sleeper, always had been.

How I managed to actually wake up on this particular occasion was a mystery.

There wasn't even anything around to disturb my sleep, it was rather what wasn't around that disturbed me.

Even in the daze of half-sleep I was in, I was painfully aware of the lack of arms around my waist or Jooheon's chest pressed against my back or the warmth he usually gave off. Fuck, it was actually kind of cold without him.

Sure enough, when I rolled over, eyes barely cracked open, there was a distinct lack of Jooheon beside me on the twin bed in his dark bedroom.

It was way too frigid to be traipsing around in my naked state so I haphazardly threw on the first hoodie I found on the floor, not even having the energy or mental capacity to bother with underwear as I set out in search of the big teddy bear that was supposed to be keeping me warm.

Jooheon's apartment was small, his small sniffles and whimpers magnified in the limited, otherwise silent space and it didn't take more than a few seconds to locate him, crouched in the corner of his kitchen with nothing on but a pair of sweatpants, hair a mess and tears streaking down his face as he devoured a tub of vanilla ice cream.

He froze when he saw my probably very uncomfortable-looking frame standing in front of him and he looked like he was about to get up and pretend like this never happened until I sat behind him, him between my legs with his back pressed to my chest as I just held him.

He put some more ice cream onto the spoon and offered it to me, smiling as I devoured it without hesitation.

"You're wearing my hoodie," he noted, voice scratchy and cracking.

"Looks better on me than it does on you."

Jooheon just snorted, inhaling another spoonful of ice cream.

"You're crying," I noted awkwardly, not really knowing how to ease into the conversation. Fuck, how did Jooheon comfort me when I was sad? I can't even fucking remember, seeing him crying has sent me into a complete panic mode right now, I probably wouldn't even be able to spell my own name right now.

Jooheon paused, spoon still in his mouth as he turned to look at me, one eyebrow raised.

"Really? I couldn't tell."

I could only huff indignantly, causing him to let out a loud guffaw. "Oh god, you're _so_ bad at this!"

"Shut up, moron!"

Eventually, Jooheon's laughter died down and his tears stopped, the ice cream slowly melting in its carton as we sat in the silence of his apartment.

"I had a nightmare." he finally said.

I hesitated a minute, scared of where this was going. "What about?"

"I...my mother was never in the picture and when I was ten, my dad he...he left me in a theme park. I remember waiting there all day in the exact spot he left me. He told me he was coming back and I believed him. They had to drag me away when night came and he still wasn't there."

Fucking hell.

I've seen a lot of bad shit but envisioning a young small Jooheon being carried away kicking screaming, insisting upon his father's return while all the adults side-eyed each other, knowing it was a lie....that's a visual I could've gone my whole life without.

"I have a lot of nightmares about that day and, for the most part, I'm used to them, but tonight it was different."

"What was different about it?" My voice was almost as fragile as I felt, carding my fingers through Jooheon's thick locks in an attempt to calm him, because what else can you fucking do when someone tells you something like that?

"This time I wasn't at a theme park, I was at the Slaughterhouse. I wasn't a kid. And it wasn't my dad leaving, it was you."

Fuck, there it was.

I froze, throat tightening as Jooheon finished speaking. Sure, I had expected something of the sort, but to hear it straight from his mouth was a whole other matter.

"Jooheon, I know my track record with people isn't all that great. And I understand that it must be terrifying to trust me, I'd be scared too. But I'm not leaving you. You know me enough to know that if I was, I wouldn't lie about it. I'm here for however long you want me to be. You have to know that even though I don't deserve it, spending time with you and seeing you smile and feeling your arms wrapped around me...it's the highlight of my fucking day, ok? I'm not about to give that shit up."

I couldn't help blushing profusely as Jooheon tilted his head up to look at me, the tender look of adoration and affection causing me to melt faster than an ice cube on the sidewalk.

The kiss I pulled him into was equally as soft, his hand laced in mine before he suddenly shot to his feet, tugging me to his room at a break-neck speed that had me giggling because I knew exactly what was coming next and I was just as eager for it as he was.

The next morning was serene, my muscles lax and untensed from the gentle hands that roamed my skin the whole night. My mood was as high as it had been in probably the last ten years as I sang along to Trip by Ella Mai, hips swaying along to the beat as I tried to keep a certain boy out of my mind long enough to successfully make these eggs without burning them.

It wasn't going well.

Such wife material I am, I can't even make eggs for fuck's sake.

I jumped a mile in the air when Jooheon ran in like he was on fire, eyes frantically bouncing around in search for god knows what, before finally calming when he saw me standing there, looking at him like he'd grown seven heads.

It took me a few seconds to realize what was wrong. He obviously thought I'd left in the morning, especially after the nightmare that made him sob and guzzle ice cream at three in the morning.

Before I could even apologize for being such a clueless twat, he took one look at the probably inedible breakfast in the pan (which was now smoking) and broke into laughter.

"You shut up! I— oh my god, FUCK!"

The pan, which was previously smoking, had now fucking caught on fire and I was fully ready to just bolt out of the house, pulling Jooheon behind me but he only laughed harder, taking out some salt and throwing it over the small flame until it extinguished before scraping the breakfast attempt into the trash.

"I had everything under control, you know." I pouted while Jooheon checked me for injuries, ignoring my insistence that I was completely fine and that I had no clue what fire he was talking about.

"Suure you did, princess. Just go get dressed and we can go get something to eat."

My pout deepened and Jooheon laughed, pecking my lips before pushing me towards the bathroom. It was only a second later that my head popped out from behind the doorframe, a mischevious smile as I called out, "You know it would save water if we showered together."

Jooheon turned, eyebrow raised as he asked, "You sure we'd be getting clean in that shower?"

"In the second half of it."

Jooheon smirked, already making his way towards me. "You're a fiend."

I rolled my eyes, trying and failing to hold back a shudder as he trailed his lips over my collarbone, clothes flying off as we made our way towards the bathroom. "Yeah, cause you've really been complaining about it."

"Touché."


	27. //Complicated

> _ **"You know, you're not fooling anyone when you become somebody else around everyone else, You're watching your back like you can't relax. You're trying to be cool. You look like a fool to me.** _ _** Tell me, why do you have to go and make things so complicated?" — **Complicated, Avril Lavigne_

I really don't even know why I bothered to show up. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all. Maybe I was curious. Or maybe, just maybe, a little childish part of me was hoping this would actually be meaningful. That this stupid banquet my father was having "in my mother's honor" would actually be something respectful and emotional and meaningful.

I wasn't surprised to find that that wasn't the case.

So far, it seemed that the banquet was just an excuse for a bunch of high-profile Fortune 500 CEO's to rub elbows and make business deals and their equally stiff-necked wives to get together and gossip about either my mother, me, or their husband's various mistresses.

But I couldn't bring myself to leave.

Something just didn't feel right. The way Andrea's eyes kept cutting over to me with that stupid smug smile on her face. The haughty satisfaction that had my father bouncing around the room. How secretive they were about this big thing they had supposedly done in my mother's honor.

It gave me a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Jooheon gave my hand a squeeze under the table when he felt my leg start to bounce up and down in anticipation.

I tried to give a small smile back, but it probably just came out more like a constipated sneer.

I was given a table right at the front near the speaking platform, another anomaly in the equation since, knowing Andrea, she would've had me sit all the way in the back by the trash bins.

Jooheon, Jiho, and the others weren't invited, but the security guards didn't spare a second glance when they saw them behind me, giving a small, encouraging smile and a respectful nod as they let us through wordlessly.

It was nice to know that I wasn't alone at this shark-fest.

I could feel various pairs of eyes focused on me as I sat there and the fucked up part was that I recognized most of them. I just hadn't seen them since my mother was alive and used to make us go to my father's dumb dinner parties. "He needs our support." she'd say with a bitter smile on her face, trying to hide the pain in her eyes as she met my confused ones through the vanity mirror where she would be putting her earrings in.

I was too young to realize that it was the other way around. He didn't need our support, we needed his.

"Ah, Promise!"

Speak of the devil.

I turned my head slightly, not even bothering to get up upon hearing my father's voice, seeing him standing with four other colleagues, each with a smile almost as fake as my father's on their face though contempt, curiosity, and...was that satisfaction in their gaze?

Obviously, they thought they were miles better than me and everyone at this table.

While maybe in the past that would've pissed me off, it almost amused me now. Or maybe it was just because it was them giving me those looks as opposed to someone with someone with an actual fucking conscience.

Besides, one only looked curious, not snark or superior. Why the hell was he hanging around leeches like my father?

"Gentleman, this is my lovely daughter, Promise!" he gestured towards me grandly, completely ignoring the nine other people at my table that he was trying way too hard not to look at.

Suddenly, now I was his daughter? Had I missed something since the last time we met? Oh, that's right. It's been so long since I showed up to one of these stupid socialite events, I completely forgot about the 180 he would always pull when he thought his reputation could be on the line.

Bastard.

Then again, maybe this was a good opportunity to have a bit of fun.

"Declan! How lovely to see you, it's been so long!" I said, smiling cooly, ignoring the wide-eyed look of shock his colleagues gave at my breezy detached tone and use of his name. If he was going to treat me like I was two steps away from being a complete stranger then so would I.

My father's eyes flashed with annoyance that only intensified when I completely ignored his arms that were outstretched for a hug and instead gave a brief strong handshake that I repeated with the four men, now looking back and forth between my father and I, obviously trying to come to some kind of conclusion in their head about what the hell was going on.

If they heard anything about me at all, it was probably that I was a troublesome, problematic, ungrateful brat (kind of true), but here I was being as polite and impersonal as anyone else here while _my father_ looked like the one who was about to throw a temper tantrum.

Serves him right.

I kept the detached, overly-bright smile plastered to my face as I turned to introduce the others at my table, because if my father thought I was gonna hide the only people who were actually there for me just because _he _was embarrassed about them then he had another thing coming.

I could see recognition flash through one of the men's eyes when I introduced Jiho, Wonho, Changkyun, and finally Jooheon. "Wow, I didn't expect to be in the presence of underground legends tonight."

Everyone's eyebrows shot up at that. It was all my father could do to splutter out, "Y-You know them?"

"Of course, Declan, I do own a record label, after all!" the man chortled, my father blushing because even I knew he knew that, as nosy as he fucking is, he just didn't think anyone I would associate myself with would be good enough to be recognized by one of his precious work buddies.

"We've been scouting new talent lately and these four are some we've had our eye on for a couple weeks. Actually, if you four wouldn't mind, I'd love to talk to you four for a bit."

Chnagkyun looked like he might actually faint while Wonho, Jooheon, and Jiho tried to keep relatively calm as Jooheon and Jiho glanced towards me as if asking if I was emotionally fit enough to be left alone for a bit. I only smiled encouragingly and they didn't hisitate to take him up on his offer.

Meanwhile, my father had such a look of anger and confusion mixed on my face that I almost laughed, quickly masking it as a cough, deciding to end my little performance as, frankly, I was getting sick of having to look at his fucking face and smile at it, instead of vomiting.

"Have a great rest of your night, gentlemen." I gave a bright smile, shaking the remaining three men's hand, pointedly ignoring my father's as I took my seat once more, taking a sip of the champagne that I really wasn't even supposed to be drinking, but the waiters didn't blink twice at offering to me. I'm pretty sure even they knew I'd done way worse, who gave a fuck about a little champagne at this point?

My eyebrow raised when I saw my father still standing over me menacingly, his little friends not by his side, so he must've waved them away. They were probably already relaying every single detail of our encounter to their gossip-happy wives at this very second.

"You think you're so fucking clever, don't you?" he hissed lowly, eyes narrowing at the mock innocence that immediately dawned on my face.

"Why, Declan! If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you had anger issues!"

"I swear to God, if we weren't in public, I'd-"

Ajiad and Shownu's head snapped toward him as if they dared him to finish the sentence, but I was having the time of my life, standing to my full height, elevated with the heels I was wearing, and smirking at him.

To anyone not at this table, it might look like we were having a pleasant conversation standing up, but up close I could see the hard fury in my father's eyes and the tension in his muscles.

If he had the opportunity, my own father would not hesitate to snap my spine and spit in my face right now and I was loving it. I'd never seen him have any emotions before and suddenly not only was I no longer scared of him, I had the ability to make him angry? Almost as angry as I'd been with at my mom's death even. Just by _embarrassing _him a little? Pathetic.

He was literally more angry right now about being very slightly put in his place than he had been all these years at my mother's death and the thought made my blood run hot.

"You'd do what, _Declan_?"

His eye twitched at the sound of his name and my smirk widened just a bit.

"You'd hit me? Like you did the other day? Slap me around a bit, kick me, maybe pull my hair?" I laughed like I was telling a little joke, enjoying the way his fists clenched tighter. For so long, I had to be the only one angry. The only one in pain. The only one suffering. Now, he could feel a tiny sliver of it.

"Well, why wait? You're such a big man, right? You can do whatever you want with no consequences, right? Who cares what these people say? Hit me. Beat your own daughter like you know you want to and show every single one of these pompous assholes the _real _Declan Keshan. The man my mother would rather have _died _than be married to."

His hand snapped up like he couldn't control it before he froze. No one had noticed, but judging from the way his hands were clenched, he was about to put them right around my neck. Would he really have choked me? Crushed my windpipe? Would my own father have killed me?

The answer was no. Not because he cared. Or because he loved me. Or even because it was wrong.

It was because we were in a room full of people and he had a reputation to uphold.

_That _was what kept my father's hands from hurting his own child.

Maybe if I had been in my right mind, I'd be embarrassed at the fact that five of my friends just saw how little my father cares. How fucked up a father he is. Hell, how fucked up a daughter _I _am.

But I wasn't in my right state of mind.

So all I could do was laugh, the sound cold, hollow, grating, almost like nails on a chalkboard, making my father lower his hands like he couldn't believe they'd moved in the first place.

"Of course you won't. Because you're a coward, and you always have been."

I heaved a sigh, suddenly exhausted instead of amused as I put the heel of my palm under my chin, holding my head up while I drummed my fingers against the table, looking around and wanting nothing more than for this thing to be over.

"Leave me alone, Declan. I'm sick of seeing your face." my voice was soft now, almost hollow and I hated myself for the change from the confident person I'd just been two minutes ago but I couldn't help it.

The moment I saw those hands, my father's hands, reaching out to hurt me, such an ingrained instinct he didn't even know he was doing it...fuck, just when I think he can't hurt me anymore, he proves me wrong.

Why did I even care? He literally sent me to the hospital just a few days before?

Why can't I squash this childish fucking hope that he cares about me even though he's made it abundantly clear that he wishes nothing more than for me to be in a casket right beside my beloved mother?

So lost in my own thoughts, I'd almost forgotten he was there until his cold, apathetic voice pierced my ears once more, "Andrea was planning on making a big spectacle of this, but I want you and your little morons out of my sight as soon as possible so I'll just make this quick. That little dance studio you love so much? It's your mothers."

I was so glad I was sitting with my back towards him because my eyes popped open wider than a dinner plate.

I never knew that. No one ever told me that, Mom never even mentioned she had a dance studio. I didn't blame her, why would she, but I should've been told after she died.

Still, I kept my stance loese, my finger's drum rhythm against the table not faltering once as I drawled, "Yeah, and?"

"And she left it to you."

Holy fuck.

I heaved a sigh, turning to look at him, his smug smirk falling when he saw the boredom in my eyes. I was good at pretending that I wasn't screaming inside.

"And why are you telling me this exactly?"

"Because we sold it."

My face remained the same, frustrating my father even more but I was trying to keep my hands steady. Trying to keep my heart from dropping and my blood from running cold. Dear God, I know we have a shit ton of issues, but please tell me I didn't hear what I thought I just heard.

"Through various legal loopholes," my father continued, "we transferred the ownership to us and sold it. It's being demolished in a few weeks. Andrea wants to build a boutique there, instead."

In that one moment, I completely understood how you could murder someone and not even realize the magnitude of what you'd done until they were dead.

I wanted to take my father and Andrea and throw them through the window. Smash their heads against the wall. Hurt them. Bring them so much pain that they would beg for mercy only to get a bullet through their brain like my mother.

The world was so fucking unfair.

If there was a god, then he was an asshole. I hated him and everything he stood for. What kind of monster would let a woman like my mother suffer for so long while Declan Keshan has lived his whole life on top of the world? What kind of monster would make my mother die, instead of the man before me?

A man who would marry a woman who saw my mother's suicide as a mere competition for attention that she would never win. A woman who would tear down one of the few things that gave my mother happiness just to spite her memory. A man who would not only _let _her do it but _encourage _her. _Help _her. All to hurt the only child he had with the wife _he _failed. Just because he couldn't face the sick monster that stared back at him in the mirror every morning.

But none of that showed on my face. Only a small smile as I told him with more hatred in my voice than I'd ever heard from me or anyone else, "I wish it had been you instead of Mom. It _should've _been you. You would've actually _deserved _it."


	28. //Tired AF

> _**"I been workin' too damn much on everybody else's shit but mine. Leave people confused as fuck but let me make it clear now - it's my time...I promise to never put myself second no more." — **Tired AF, JVZEL_

Even though I felt like absolute shit the next morning, eyes red and puffy, head pounding, limbs weighed down and heavy from crying until like five in the morning, I still steeled myself enough to drive back to my house so I could pick up some binders and homework I left there.

When I saw my father standing in my kitchen, looking around the place in curiosity (which wouldn't have been there in the first place if he ever bothered to fucking check on me), it was honestly just instinct to pick up the nearest object, which happened to be a ceramic vase, and throw it at his fucking head as hard as I could.

He narrowly dodged the object, looking at me almost in disbelief, as if we hadn't literally tried to fucking kill each other a few days ago.

"Why are you here? We've seen more of each other these past few weeks than we have in all those years since Mom died. If I have to look at your face again, I might have a fucking breakdown."

My father opened his mouth, probably to fire back some equally snarky comment, but I was fucking done with his shit. I would die happy if I only never had to see Andrea or my father ever again.

"For God's sake, just say what you came to say so we can both leave!"

My father pursed his lips like it took everything he had not to reprimand me for giving him orders, but we both knew it wouldn't do anything anyways.

"Fine then, I'll cut to the chase. I'm disowning you. I want you off this property by 8 pm tomorrow and whatever you leave will be destroyed."

I raised an eyebrow, head cocking to the side slightly. Funny that he was doing this now after so long. But it only took me a few seconds to figure it out. First destroying the last material thing left of my mother and now kicking me out and trying to erase my existence from the property? No reminders of any of my father's biggest wrongdoings?

"Andrea's pregnant, isn't she?"

My father nodded solemnly, not surprised that I'd figured it out so quickly.

It was silent for a bit as I took in his eyes, his face, his stance, trying to find some semblance of happiness or excitement or even relief that he could start a new family over. Have a second chance to be the man he should've been for my mother and I. But there was none. He was only happy to be getting rid of any trace of his first failure, he had no intention of even trying to atone for his sins.

He'd do the same thing to Andrea and that poor baby that didn't know the life of suffering they had ahead of them.

At least I'd had a kind, caring mother. This baby would have neither. They'd be completely alone right from the very beginning.

I scoffed, turning away from the man before me in disgust.

"You never learn. It's not enough to ruin one wife and child's life, you have to do it again? How many people have you done this to? How many more are you going to tear apart to get what you want? How many people do you have to destroy before you give a fuck about someone other than yourself?"

A strange look entered my father's eyes but it was gone before it could even fully form. He was so scared to care, so scared to admit his own mistakes and own up to his atrocities that all his energy was being put into hiding and running from having to face who he really was. There was nothing left to care about people.

There'd be no talking a conscience into him. It was too late for Declan Keshan and it had been for a while now.

"You can kick me out, I don't give a fuck, I hate it here anyway. I'll be out by eight o'clock tomorrow, just like you said, you can even still destroy all the shit I leave behind. But you're an idiot if you think I'm letting you cut me off."

My father's eyebrows rose, probably about to ask what the hell I could do about it but the sound of my amused chuckling cut him off before he could utter a sound.

"Come on, Declan, you really think I wasn't expecting this? You really think I didn't think this day would come? You think I haven't documented all the shit you and Andrea put me through for emergency situations like this one? I've got the _original _security tapes from the night Andrea broke my arm."

My father blanched, remembering just how violent his wife got that night and knowing damn well how bad that would look to the media, but I wasn't done, not by a long shot.

"All the tapes from that night Andrea sent a fucking fourteen-year-old off the property to sleep on the street because of her pissy temper. Even got the tape from a week ago in your office where your own pathetic temper reared its ugly head. And _no_, I'm _not _stupid enough to tell you how I got them." My father's jaw was slightly dropped, but I didn't know why.

He forgot that I was his daughter too. Those shark-like tendencies that seemed to govern this shit-show of a family ran through me too. I was not as compassionate as my mother and I was certainly not blinded by love for that man before me. My mom probably had so much shit on him that she could have ruined his life with one phone call. She only didn't because she was kind and selfless and in love. But I was not my mother, no matter how much I looked like her, and it seemed that my father was only just now beginning to understand this

"That's not all of course, but those are certainly the ones that the media will cherry-pick if I released them, and trust me, if you test me, they'll be all over every major news outlet before you could even call your legal team. Think about all that bad publicity, people won't even want to have their company associated with you after your name's been dragged through the mud. The police might even have to get involved, and heaven forbid they find out about the...shadier side of your little empire."

My father looked so pale that for a moment I thought he might be sick all over the floor. I could ruin him in five minutes and we both knew it.

"So here's the deal, Declan: I'll get off your property, no problem. But I still have my account full and you don't hinder that whatsoever. We both know it isn't even possible for me to overspend on your budget. And I want to be in my sibling's life. Every doctor's appointment, the birth, the whole thing. And from the moment they're born, whatever time I spend with them, Andrea is under no circumstances going to be there. The moment Andrea tells them lies about me behind my back or tries to stop me from seeing them, it's over. The moment you put your hands on Andrea or that child, it's over. Are we clear?"

I would think that my father would've gone apeshit at those demands, but he actually looked like he might cry out of relief. "That's all?"

I raised an eyebrow, admittedly slightly confused. "That's not enough?"

He threw his head back, laughing like I'd told a joke or something, his smile almost sending chills through me. It was so cold so hollow, almost just a baring of teeth like a predator might do to intimidate prey or competition.

"You wanting to be in that kid's life doesn't have shit to do with me, and if paying you off means I don't have to hear your attitude or see your face looking so much like your mother anymore, then I'll gladly do it." God, just hearing him speak makes me sick to my stomach.

How can someone be so cruel and be ok with it?

"Why is Andrea even stupid enough to have kids with you?"

Declan scoffed, rolling his eyes, the expression on his face one an exasperated mother would have when telling her friends that her child still believes in the Easter bunny. "She thinks it'll magically fix this marriage. Make us love each other. She's delusional and she'll get bored of the baby a few weeks after it's born when she finally comes back to reality."

Yeah, now there's _definitely _no way I'm leaving that kid alone. My father sees this baby as a nuisance and it's mother sees it as a playing card.

It's only gonna get a couple weeks of love in which it'll be shoved constantly under my father's nose in an attempt to make _Andrea _the center of attention, not the _baby_, before it's thrown to a hareem of nannies.

That's no way for a kid to grow up.

I'm not letting this family fuck another child up.

"Let me know when the first doctor's appointment is. And if it's not about the baby or my money, then I don't want you or Andrea talking to me. I'm done with this shit, I'll be by later to pick up my stuff." I didn't spare my father a second glance as I picked up my three school binders on the coffee table and strolled out of the house, not even bothering to shut the door gently on the way out.


	29. //Pretty Girl

> _**"Sometimes, it's hard for me to show that I'm more than just a rumor or a song on your computer. There's more to me than people know." — **Pretty Girl, Maggie Lindeman_

After leaving my house, or my old house now, I guess, I wasted no time hopping in my car and speeding to the library. My bravado from earlier was completely gone now, and the full magnitude of what just happened was trying to hit me in the face but I was refusing to let it.

As soon as I got to the library, I shoved my earbuds in, put my playlist on shuffle, not giving a fuck what actually came on as long as it distracted me from anything that happened these past two days, and buried myself in homework.

The more I studied, the more I learned to find a certain comfort in it. No chaos, no unpredictability, no drama, no heartache, just reading a textbook, taking notes, rereading the notes, and answering questions. I'd never had something so simple and monotonous to take up my time and it was certainly a nice change of pace.

It was only when I got up to walk around and stretch my legs for a bit that my peaceful studying monotony was interrupted. In one of the reference aisles, sat a pretty brown-skinned girl with curly black and brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail, strands framing her face and glasses skewed on her face, not in a cute, _I just got out of bed _way but in more of an _I'm running of coffee, ramen, and two minutes of sleep, mid-terms are approaching, and I'm two steps from death _kind of way.

I'm pretty sure she didn't even register that she was mumbling to herself under her breath and tears were collecting in the rims of her eyes.

Her face looked eerily familiar and I briefly wondered if the girl went to my school. Honestly, the only one of my classmate's faces I knew was Alex's, the rest I hadn't seen due to either me rarely showing up or being too concentrated on my work to even glance at anything else.

"Um, are you ok?"

The girl's head snapped up and she stared at me blankly, almost as if she hadn't realized anyone else was even in here. How long had she been sitting here?

"Yeah, fine." the girl replied, her voice cracking at least twice on every syllable and giving me a pained, obviously fake smile which dropped immediately at the look I shot her.

"OK, I might be a bit tired and dizzy but other than that-"

I cut the girl off, not even wanting to hear anymore as I extended a hand down to her, pulling her gently to her feet when she accepted it. The girl swayed lightly once she was on her feet and I sighed as I led her over to the table where I had been studying. "When was the last time you ate, kid?"

The girl pouted, a strange look on her strong-boned, slim-featured face, built more for elegance and resting bitch faces than pouts and childish innocence. "Yesterday. And I'm not a kid, I'm older than you."

I rose a brow, sitting the girl in the chair beside the one I was previously occupying. "I'm gonna run to the McDonalds next door and when I come back, you're gonna tell me how exactly it is you know how old I am. You sit here and rest."

The girl gave a small nod before plonking her head on the table, a loud _thud _resounding that made even me flinch.

High-tailing it to the McDonalds two doors down from the library, I wasted no time ordering a Big Mac, large fries, and a water, internally cursing myself for forgetting to ask the girl what she did and didn't like, or at the very least whether she was allergic to anything or not, before rushing back to the library, finding mystery girl in the same place I left her before, only now she'd resumed reading the textbook that had her so stressed out a few minutes ago.

"No more studying, you're taking an eating break, whether you like it or not," I said, giving the girl a look that told her I was not fucking around as I slammed the food down and promptly slid the textbook to the other side of the table, out of her reach.

"I'm still older than you," the girl grumbled, unwrapping the sandwich and taking a mega-chomp out of it. Well, she wasn't kidding about the not eating thing.

"Yeah, and how do you know that exactly?"

"I go to the Slaughterhouse sometimes. I've seen you compete before a few times."

My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. So that's why she looks familiar. I've probably seen her face in the crown once or twice. "You know who I am and you're not scared?"

The girl shrugged, already three-fourths of the way done with the burger in her hands. "I've never seen you fuck someone up who didn't deserve it. Plus, it's kind of hard to be scared of someone who helped a stranger off the floor and almost broke their neck trying to get them something to eat."

I couldn't help but laugh, already feeling relaxed by this girl's laid-back vibe.

"Touche, I guess. Kind of unfair though, you know who I am, but I don't even know your name."

"Veronica." Instead of giving me a hand to shake, the girl gave me a fry from the bag and a cute grin. I popped the fry in my mouth, grinning back with my mouth wide open, laughing at her mock disgusted face. "Promise, but you apparently already knew that. So, why are you stressing so much over that homework?"

Veronica heaved a sigh, taking a sip of the water before leaning back in her chair, seeming much better than she had been a while ago.

"I had to take a few days off school cause my mom came down with the flu and she needed someone there to give her her meds and cook for her and all that. But now we've got a test in my worst subject coming up in two days and my teacher won't give me any extra time, so I have to cram all the stuff that I've missed."

Veronica ran a hand down her face exasperatedly. "I'm already shit in this class, the last thing I need is to fail an exam."

Veronica went silent, fingers playing absently with the straw sticking out of the cup and eyes determined to avoid the textbook I'd slid to the other side of the table. I pursed my lips, wanting to say more than a few words about her shitty ass teacher but refraining. Not like it would help anyway.

"Well, first things first, you need a nap. You're not getting any studying done walking around like a fucking zombie. I'm about to head to my grandmother's bookshop for my shift there, she has a loft upstairs where you can catch some shut-eye. When you wake up, we can study together. It always helps me when I study with other people."

Veronica look stunned by the offer before offering a bright, dazzling smile. "That would be great, actually! I've never had friends to study with before. Just let me throw these bags and junk in the trash then we can grab our stuff and go."

I nodded as she gathered up the McDonalds bags to throw away, wordlessly packing my stuff up while still mentally chewing on something she just said. What did she mean when she said that she'd never had friends to study with before? Did she have friends that didn't like studying or did she just mean that she hadn't really had friends before?

It had to be the first one, I found it hard to imagine that Veronica wouldn't have a ton of friends. She's sweet and chill, if not a bit too trusting for her own good. Then again, she did say that she knows me from the Slaughterhouse but, _still_, I've heard some of the rumors that float around about me there, and some of them are even half-true. I'd _never _take food from someone who had rumors like that surrounding them, especially a mere five minutes after meeting them.

"Ready to go?" I jumped, seeing that Veronica was now beside me again, stance relaxed but face excited, looking like a kid off for her first day of kindergarten.

I nodded, continuing to make small talk as we left the library, heading to my grandmother's bookshop. I had to admit I was kind of excited myself.

This was the first normal friend I'd made through normal, legal means and the first normal person that hadn't judged or lectured me. A pleasant surprise to make up for an emotionally confusing morning.


	30. //Devils Don't Fly

> _**"I give my best smile, my last dime but I'm always getting wrong. It's not 'cause I'm young or from a broken home. Maybe I just fight cause I don't know where I belong." —**_ _Devils Don't Fly, Natalia Kills_

It wasn't even a surprise anymore when Veronica and I reached my grandmother's bookstore to find Nana at the front counter reading with Jiho beside her, bopping his head along to the music playing from his earbuds and Jooheon and the rest of my friends either horsing around or helping put books up.

They all looked up when they heard the bell above the front door ring, only to stop when they noticed the unfamiliar female standing beside me.

I could already tell by the way Veronica curled in on herself a bit, shuffling to the left to hide behind me that she was pretty shy in front of people she didn't know. I supposed she hadn't been that way in front of me because I'd made the first move.

"Come on," I grabbed her hand, already beginning to lead her toward the stairs, trying to get her away from the attention that was clearly causing her so much discomfort.

"In here," I showed her the small room that Nana used as a bedroom for me even though I rarely slept over here. Might have to start, though, at least until I find an apartment.

"The bathroom's there and you can get a snack from the kitchen if you need, just tell me if we run out of something so I can replace it later. When you wake up just come down and we can start studying."

Veronica was looking at me in wonder, like she couldn't believe I was real, her lower lip even trembling a bit before she launched herself into my arms.

"Y-You're one of the first people who's been n-nice to me in a while," she croaked out, sniffling a bit and I frowned as I hugged her back, trying to rub her back in comfort. It was more than a bit awkward on my end — I wasn't used to being hugged by near-strangers — but Veronica honestly didn't seem to notice.

"Why?"

Veronica pulled back, she was relatively tall for a female as well, a bit taller than me, so we were eye-level and it was easy to see the shame and fear in her eyes that stemmed from my question. "I'll tell you later. Not really ready to talk about it."

I nodded, giving her what I hoped was a reassuring smile, before patting her shoulder. Someone needs to teach me how to comfort people ASAP, cause I can't continue on like this.

"I can respect that. Now, get some rest."

Veronica nodded and I left the room, shutting the door to give her some privacy before grabbing a turkey sandwich from the fridge and heading back downstairs.

Jiho frowned when he saw me, angular features illuminated by the sunlight spilling in from the window beside him.

"Oh yeah, I wasn't hungry at all, Promise, thanks for asking!" he said sarcastically, pouting until I rolled my eyes and let him take a bit of the sandwich, muttering under my breath before I saw the looks on Ajiad and the other's faces like they might explode if I didn't tell them every detail of Veronica's existence in the next ten seconds.

"Um, are you guys...ok?"

"Who was that girl?" Minhyuk exploded at the same time that Changkyun said, "So that was a pretty cute friend you had there."

Jooheon was silent, the only one not looking at me as he kept putting books onto the shelf but I couldn't figure out why he would be upset. Was it something that happened before they got here?

I tried to remember if he had been upset when we walked in, but I had been so shocked by Veronica's 180 in attitude that I didn't really have time to look that hard.

"Her name's Veronica, she's my...new friend, I guess."

Were we even friends? We just met like an hour ago at the library and now she's sleeping in my nana's bookstore? Not sure if that makes us friends, but it's the best word I've got.

The thought made me feel giddy. Now I've got not just nine friends, but _ten_, and just a couple months ago, I had none.

"You don't sound so sure?"

"Have you guys..." Wonho trailed off, raising his eyebrows a couple times like I was supposed to know what the hell that meant.

"Have we what?" I asked, looking at Hoseok like he was losing it before Jooheon sighed.

"Have you fucked her is what I think he's trying to ask." he drawled, leaning against a bookshelf, looking at me with a flat, emotionless look that I'd never really seen on his face before.

Everything kind of froze for a second, multiple people's eyes widening, not only at his voice, but his tone. Jooheon rarely ever sounded like that, so apathetic and monotoned. Like we were strangers. Or I'd done something wrong.

It was so silent you could hear a pin drop and I set the rest of the sandwich onto my napkin, appetite gone and feeling a little sick even as I scoffed.

Is that really what this was about? Was he really asking me this right now?

"You think I would? After all this, you really think I would?"

Jooheon opened his mouth to respond, but I just shook my head. I wasn't about to do this with him, not now, not after the shit that already went down this morning, and especially not in front of an audience, no matter how close they may be.

"No, we haven't fucked. I know it's hard to believe, the biggest slut on the planet has a friend she hasn't slept with but believe it or not, it's true!"

"I'm sure that's not what he meant-" Ajiad started, her sentence stopping short when I turned to Jiho, obviously not listening or even entertaining this conversation any longer.

I was already volatile from everything that had happened the past couple days, if I tried to tackle this too, I might actually start crying.

"Can you handle the register while I organize the back?"

Jiho's lips pursed. Organizing the back was a job that he knew I hated with a passion and only resorted to when I really, _really _wasn't in a state to deal with customers. It usually took a lot for me to get to the point where I organized the back, and I'd only done it about three times since I started helping Nana out since normally she's the one that does it.

Nevertheless, he nodded, shoving the rest of my sandwich in his mouth as he shooed me towards the back where I spent the next two hours sorting through old ass boxes, trying not to get dust in my lungs, and trying not to think about what just happened.

There weren't any windows back here, just a single light bulb hung from the center of the room and a door for emergency exits near the back corner, so it was dim and hard to see what I was doing as I coughed away the smell of stale pages and cardboard.

It should have made me focus on my task even more, but all I could see was Jooheon's face swimming in my field of vision. Apathetic, like he didn't give a damn if I did or not.

His voice when he asked if Veronica and I fucked, so fucking cold, almost taunting.

In that moment, he almost reminded me of the kids at school who'd give me disgusted looks in the hallway and call me a slut when they thought I couldn't hear them and point to the kid in class that they thought was most unappealing then turn to me and ask in a tone identical to Jooheon's, "Have you fucked them too, skank?"

All that shit Jooheon talked about accepting me and being cool with my past and how worth it he thought I was and he immediately jumped to the conclusion that I would fuck someone while we're...whatever the hell we are?

That I would bring that person in front of him and let them sleep at my nana's place and act like nothing's wrong?

Had he been lying all this time? Did he really think I was nothing but some kind of sex fiend? Did he think my feelings for him were fake? That I was lying?

Just how low of an opinion did he have of me?

And here I was thinking he was the one person who'd never judge me, the one person who understood, the one person I could be myself with.

And now, here I stood, yet again, questioning every single word I'd ever heard from someone I trusted and someone that I thought trusted me.

Everyone had already come to the conclusion that I was only useful lying on my back with my legs spread, so why hadn't I? I thought Jooheon was different, but maybe not. Maybe that was what he thought too. Then again, how could I blame him? I'd heard it time and time again with Daniel and the kids at school. With my past one night stands and the people at the Slaughterhouse. They all thought that, why should he be any different?

"Promise?"

I jumped when I noticed Veronica standing next to me, looking worried. Jiho must have told her where I was.

Veronica's hand reached out, her finger swiping down my face and I was confused for a second until I realized she was wiping away a tear. I had been too distracted to notice I was crying. Profusely, actually.

"Are you ok?" she asked, voice soft like she was afraid I might break.

I laughed, the sound strange considering my body was really trying to force me to start sobbing, but I held it back, wiping the tears away and smiling at her worried face before me. "No, why would I be? You've seen me crying, my reputation is in tatters now."

Veronica stared at me a bit before giggling, seeming to come to the conclusion that it would be better to play along than push the topic. "Your reputation was automatically ruined when you used the word 'tatters' in a sentence."

I chuckled, dusting my hands off a bit on my shorts though it wasn't like there was much material to work with in the first place.

It had only been about two hours, but Veronica looked miles better, brown and black curls now loose from their ponytail and falling down to her hips in a normal way, no stray sections all helter-skelter like she'd been pulling at it. Her glasses were straight, skin a bit brighter, and she moved way faster.

It wasn't as good as a full night's sleep but it was enough to get through a study session then continue on about her day.

Jooheon was still in the shop so Veronica and I opted to study upstairs at the kitchen table.

Even though it was cramped and we had to mind our volume in case there were customers downstairs, being with Veronica served as a much better distraction than sorting through dusty knick-knacks. When she wasn't shy, she was really funny, silly almost, yet still laid-back. She was even a relatively fast learner, especially considering she said this was her worst subject.

Before we really knew it, two hours had flown by and Veronica was getting ready to leave, saying she had to be home for dinner or her mom would be worried.

It was still daylight and she apparently didn't live far so she had no issue walking home and my mood was significantly lifted as we exchanged numbers and a quick — still kind of awkward — side-hug before she disappeared out the door.

Jooheon and the others were gone when Veronica left and I didn't know exactly how to feel about that so I just decided not to think about it at all, passing my time in stocking shelves, reshelving books, sweeping the floor, servicing customers, and overall keeping myself as busy as humanly possible until finally it was closing time and I couldn't put it off any longer.

I needed to go get my shit from my dad's place.


	31. //moonchild

> _**"C'mon y'all moonchild, moonchild. That's supposed to be. Yeah all the pain, all the sorrow. That's your destiny, see. You know my life is like this. We gotta dance in the rain, dance in the pain. Even though we crashed now, we gonna dance in the plane." —**_ _moonchild, RM_

The drive to my place was silent, the only noises being the music from the radio and the already kind of loud engine of Shownu's pick-up truck.

Despite the fact that this was the first time since we'd known each other that we were completely alone together, it wasn't awkward, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel to the beat of whatever song caught his attention.

He hadn't even hesitated when I asked him if he could bring his truck and help me get my stuff from my dad's place and he didn't even make the suggestion of calling the others.

Just, "Sure, give me a few minutes and I'll come get you." and that was that.

I thought it would be weird, considering I was basically just his friend's girlfriend or whatever and Jooheon and I aren't even really talking right now, but it wasn't. It was like Shownu didn't consider me someone he had to hang out with because of Jooheon, he just considered us friends in our own right and the thought warmed my heart more than I would ever admit.

With him, Shownu brought an aura of peace and stillness that was just what I needed as I collected all my clothes and threw them in boxes.

Neither of us bothered to turn any lights on, the moon was bright, silver light filtering in through the windows and providing a calm, still glow that illuminated things enough to see just fine. Besides I wanted to keep this nighttime vibe, I loved all the calm and quiet. I liked feeling like I was running away and would be missed rather than being kicked out and unwanted.

Between the two of us, it didn't take long for us to have all my clothes packed up, then move on to toiletries.

I froze when Shownu came across the stack of blades under my bathroom sink, none of which had been used in five days, but I sure could have used a couple of hours ago. I waited for him to say something about it, to scold me, or make a big deal out of it, but he just briefly glanced at me and gave me a small shake of his head before crossing to the trashcan and tossing all the blades inside, going back to packing things in boxes without a second glance.

I just stood there for a bit, feeling like there was something I was supposed to be saying, but not having a clue what it was until he did it for me, looking back at me with an intense enough stare to make me freeze on the spot and a voice firm enough to let me know that he wasn't playing around and there was no room for argument, "I know that people can't just stop a new habit, so instead make a new one. Whenever you feel like cutting call me. We can do something else, dance, fix cars, _anything _but that. That's what worked for me and if it doesn't work for you then we'll find something else."

So many things to unpack that I didn't even know where to start. He was not only giving me permission, but basically _telling _me to come to him whenever I needed to cut. He was actively offering help to find something that worked for me other than cutting. He cared that much. And worst of all, he used to cut himself?

As if reading my mind, he nodded as he turned back to grab the now full boxes of toiletries and bathroom products. "It was a couple years ago. To this day, Kihyun is the only other one who knows. He would sneak me out of my house and we'd go back to his and experiment with cookie recipes." A small smile pulled the corners of his lips up, his eyes misty now with a look that I was all-too-familiar with.

"You like him." I realized, a bit startled cause I didn't see how I hadn't realized it before this. Shownu was just so quiet, it was easy not to notice how he always gravitated around Kihyun, mumbled compliments about his hair or outfit whenever he wasn't happy with himself. Hell, he even made Kihyun walk on the inside of the sidewalk and kept spare hoodies in his car for whenever Kihyun was cold.

Fuck, if I'm an idiot for not realizing then Kihyun's an even bigger one.

Shownu blushed, the intense red tint to his tan skin noticeable even in the dim moonlight. "I like all my friends," he mumbled evasively.

"Don't play dumb with me, you _like _like him."

Shownu rolled his eyes, looking down at me unamused. "'_Like _like'? What are we, five?"

I pouted, flipping him the bird and ignoring his quiet laughter as we continued to gather the rest of my shit together. It took like four hours, especially since neither of us were rushing. You never realize just how much shit you have until you're moving.

I was glad I had enlisted Shownu and his truck's help. I doubted I'd end up moving any furniture or heavy duty shit, but I did end up having more stuff than my car could handle as I figured I would.

"What happens to the stuff you leave behind?"

"He said it's gonna be destroyed. It'll probably be burned." I said as we just sat on the front stoop, smoke hazing around us as we rested before heading out.

The full magnitude of the situation was starting to hit me. My dad was really kicking me out. All those years I spent wanting to leave, but too scared to part with my mother's memory and it ended up being the person that made me want to leave most who forcibly removes me.

Life thinks she's a funny bitch.

"It feels weird." I muttered to Shownu, seeing him look at me out of my peripheral vision.

"I imagine it would. It's the place where you have the most memories with your mom."

I nodded, a tear streaking down my face as I took another drag from the cigarette. "It feels like I'm leaving her behind. Like I'm abandoning her."

It was silent for a bit, Shownu cocking his head to the side as he thought about how to respond. "I don't think that's the right way to think of it," he finally said.

"As cheesy as it sounds, memories and love and shit like that, it's not tied to places and objects. It's tied to people," he finally looked at me, giving me a small smile, "You're the person that knew your mother best. You're the thing she loved the most. And that'll be the case no matter where you are. All those memories won't be left behind because they're not tied to this place, they're tied to you. You're not abandoning her, you carry her with you wherever you are."

My lower lip wobbled as I tried to calm myself down enough to at least not sob on his jacket, taking one last drag of my cigarette before stomping it out and wiping the tears from my face, giving a shaky laugh.

"That was really poetic for a guy that barely talks."

Shownu gave a lopsided smile as he pulled me to my feet, wiping the last tear away. "I try. C'mon, it's cold out here and I'm not having Kihyun beat my ass when you catch the flu."

Like before, the drive back to the garage when Shownu not only worked, but seemed to spend a majority of his time was completely silent, but this silence was even more comfortable than the last one.

I didn't have a place lined up yet and I hadn't exactly had time to tell Nana or Jiho my new living situation and didn't feel like having the conversation at this hour of night, so I was prepared to get lost and find a hotel but Shownu just gave me a dubious look when I brought it up.

"Yeah, no, I can think of multiple ways that can go wrong. There's a bed back there in the office. Not the comfiest, but it's warm and I know for sure that its safe."

I stomped my foot, unable to help whining a bit. "Aw c'mon, I'll be fine by myself, I've already asked you for enough."

"No, you haven't, now stop backtalking and change, you smell like cig smoke and neither one of us feels like digging through those boxes to find your clothes," he deadpanned, throwing a pair of sweats and a tee that I assume was his — did he ever leave this place and go home? — at my face, smirking as I sputtered and made a face.

"And these smell like diesel fuel, how's this any better?"

"I happen to like the smell of diesel and apparently so does Kihyun, he doesn't ever complain."

"_Kihyun wears your clothes?!_"

"STOP BACKTALKING AND CHANGE!"

Holding my hands up in surrender, I quickly made my way to the front of the garage where the front desk and waiting room were and an employees-only section lay beyond. There were supply closets and break rooms and a couple offices but sure enough, in one room that was a bit larger than the other offices, a twin-size bed was pushed into the corner. I was more inclined to change in here than any public restroom.

Despite the fact that Shownu was only two or three inches taller than me, he was much broader and had limbs relatively long for his body so there was fabric draping off me everywhere and it was infinitely more annoying than when I wore Jooheon's clothes, but can't look a gift horse in the mouth. Plus this was way warmer than the crop top, flannel, shorts, and fishnets I'd been sporting before.

I even got used to the diesel smell after a couple of minutes.

I left my discarded clothes in a small heap on one of the chairs then made my way to the break room, snagging two soft drinks and a couple bags of chips before making my way out to where Shownu was, looking over one of the cars and doing whatever the hell it is mechanics do.

He looked up when he heard me coming, face scrunching in a laugh when he saw me furiously waddling towards him.

"Kihyun's even smaller than I am, how the fuck does he tolerate this?!" I hissed, shoving his snacks into his chest.

Shownu just laughed, ripping one of the bags open and chomping on a chip inside, not responding to my comment.

Both of us were a bit peckish so there was no talking until the snacks had been eaten and the trash was thrown away at which time Shownu resumed tinkering with the car and I sat on the hood of an adjacent car, scrolling through social media.

Despite the fact that both of us were exhausted, neither seemed to be able to sleep. Either that or we were too scared to.

"Why do you spend so much time here?" I blurted out, after about twenty minutes of staring up at the ceiling when I had seen more shoutouts on Instagram than I could take.

Shownu didn't even really freeze or act like the question bothered him as he said, "My mom."

I paused, watching his face carefully before asking, "Is this a sensitive topic? Are you ok with talking about it?"

Shownu nodded, shooting me a brief reassuring smile from his spot under the car's hood before turning back to what he was doing, silent as he waited for more questions. Out of all Jooheon's friends, I wouldn't expect for Shownu to be the most open about his home life.

Then again, maybe I've earned his trust somehow.

"Is your mother abusive?"

Shownu nods. "She's really angry and strict. If things aren't done the exact way she likes it then she freaks. I don't think she means to hit _us_ specifically, she's kind of just going for anything in her path when she gets pissed, but it doesn't bother her if she does hit us."

My stomach rolled. It makes sense that he's so quiet and shy and scared now. That's how he had to be to avoid his mother's fury.

He's just so gentle and sweet. To imagine someone hurting him and not even caring...

"You say 'us', I didn't know you had siblings." I point out, trying to distract myself from that fucked-up image.

"I do. There's five of us, I'm the middle child. I haven't seen my oldest sister in a couple years, but my older brother lives in midtown. I used to have to babysit my little siblings a lot, but eventually, they got old enough to fend for themselves and they started hanging at their own friend's houses or whatever places make them feel safe from our house. We spend so much time trying to avoid coming home and seeing our mother that we don't really have any leftover energy to be close to each other."

I pursed my lips.

It's so fucking stupid. My dad, Andrea, Jooheon's parents, Shownu's. They're all fucking stupid. Why have kids if you're not gonna care about them? Why bring people into this world just to let them down and hurt them?

"Parents are stupid." I grumbled, glaring into the innards of the car from my new spot beside Shownu.

He looked at me with a lopsided half smile. "Don't say that in front of your own father."

My eyebrows furrowed. "My own-oh shut up," I groaned as I realized he was referring to himself, slapping his arm and rolling my eyes as I walked back to the car I'd been previously perched on and tried not to smile at his loud laughter.

It was kind of weird. Here I was, kicked out of my house with no permanent place to stay and a dad who couldn't care less, all my shit piled on the back of a friend's truck, and unable to sleep as I talked with said friend about how shit our abusive parents are, but yet I could count on one hand the amount of times I'd felt this safe since my mom died.

Sitting here right now was the first time in my life that I ever felt without a shadow of a doubt that despite everything that happened, in the end, we'll all be ok.


	32. //Hunnie Pie

> _**"And you know how mama keeps saying we've gotta stop the games we're playing. Sweet hunnie pie, this ain't goodbye. It's not over. Come on and close your eyes. What's it gonna take to feel my love?" —** Hunnie Pie, Zella Day_

Shownu and I did eventually wind up going to sleep, but it wasn't for long. I was knee-deep in a nightmare before I finally shot up, eyes bouncing around frantically in the dark before landing on Shownu who looked only mildly less wild which told me he hadn't been up for much longer than I.

I checked my phone and would have groaned if the air hadn't been stolen from my lungs by my shitty dream. We'd only gotten about three and a half hours of sleep.

The absolute last thing I needed on my plate was to develop insomnia. My only hope was that it was the stress of what had been going on in the last few days and that it would subside when I I had time to process everything and a permanent place of my own to call home.

For now, though, Shownu and I settled for guzzling coffee and creating a new choreography.

Shownu's previous shyness surrounding his dancing that had been so prevalent the day we met was now nowhere to be seen.

I was thoroughly impressed and a little bit shocked, even.

I hadn't expected him to be bad, but I didn't expect him to be _this _good.

Despite how muscled he was, his movements were still sharp and precise, gestures more powerful than they were fluid, but it suited his style.

And he was creative.

The only setback was that neither of us were used to dancing where other people were involved, much less choreographing a duet with someone else. But after about two hours, we got over it, even managed to get about twenty seconds into the chorus of Steflon Don's _16 Shots_, when I happened to turn and catch several pairs of shocked, confused eyes.

"Promise, what the fuck, you missed the turn — Jesus Christ!" Shownu jumped back a bit, startled by his friend's sudden appearances before we both turned to our phones in shock.

"Is it really daytime already?" Shownu muttered under his breath even though we could both see that it was, indeed, a quarter past seven and they were probably here to meet up so they could all go to school.

"What do you mean? Haven't you been to sleep?" Kihyun demanded with a look that said he already knew the answer but if either of us said no, he'd run us over with every single car in the vicinity.

"Hey, we've been to sleep!" I said, slightly defensive while Shonwu utterly cowered under Kihyun's glare.

Whipped.

"Yeah, for how long?"

Both of us stayed silent and Kihyun scoffed angrily, cut off only by Hyungwon's soft, low voice, "Why's all your stuff on the back of Shownu's truck?"

Yup, that's my cue to leave.

"It's a long story." I say, not wanting to lie or shorten it because I _do _plan on telling them, I just don't feel like doing it right now. Plus, I need to start looking for places to stay. I didn't want to skip school, but I knew I wouldn't be able to pay attention anyways if I was worried about where I was going to sleep and how long I was gonna be there. Even if I didn't find a place today, which I probably wouldn't, I could at least get some ideas and that'd probably be enough for me to at least focus tomorrow.

Wonho opened his mouth to say something before Kihyun, probably correctly interpreting the look on my face said, "Hurry up and come, we need to go to school and Shownu and Promise need to sleep."

Shownu's face screwed up like Kihyun made a bad joke. "The hell are you talking about, I'm going with you. You — you guys, I'm going with _you guys_." he hurriedly corrected himself, seeing the look on my face.

I wouldn't be surprised if Shownu only showed up to school to make sure anyone didn't get any ideas about Kihyun.

I don't even know why they aren't together yet, it's not like Kihyun's crush on him isn't glaringly obvious. Then again, I was completely oblivious about the entire situation until last night so what the hell do I know.

While Kihyun and Shownu bickered about whether Shownu's rest was more important than going to school or not, Jooheon quietly took my hand and slipped me away with him to a break room in the back.

I was glad that the employees, barring Shownu, didn't show up until nine so we had time to talk in private without getting any strange looks.

I didn't resist when Jooheon took my hand but I definitely didn't let it linger in his hold either.

I was trying not to have my thoughts from yesterday come careening through my mind again lest I start crying in front of him.

It was kind of stupid, trying so hard not to look as weak as I felt despite the fact that this was the boy who'd seen me break down numerous times and never judged me. Or at least I thought he hadn't.

But regardless, there really wasn't any use trying to look unaffected when I was too scared to even look at him because I didn't want to see the pitying look on his face as he inevitably told me that he'd come to his senses, that this wasn't gonna work out, that yesterday had opened his eyes and he thought he could trust me before but he's realized that everytime he sees me hanging around someone else, somewhere deep in his mind he's always going to be expecting the worst of me.

"Promise, I'm sorry for what I said yesterday. It was stupid, ok?"

My eyebrows furrowed and I finally brought myself to be able to bring my head up and look him in the eyes.

"I...what?"

"I didn't mean what I said, especially not in the way you thought I meant it, ok? You're not a slut, there's nothing wrong with playing the field when you're single, sex is a natural thing and it's your body. Hell, even if it _was _wrong, I still wouldn't judge you for it."

For a moment I just stared at him, having to mentally replay his words no less than seven times before I finally understood them.

"You don't...you don't think bad of me? Cause the whole reason I was upset was because..." I paused, frowning for a bit. Talking about my feelings wasn't really something I did, ever, especially not in a calm, _let's-find-a-solution-to-the-problem_ type of way instead of just ranting or exploding from bottled-up feelings, but I guess if I wanted any chance at a real relationship with someone, Jooheon especially, then I'd have to learn.

Plus, the look on his face — delighted that not only was I talking to him, I was about to trust him enough to tell him what's wrong and give him a chance to fix it — it was so pure, so earnest, so _Jooheon_, that I found after a couple seconds, the words just kind of started to spill from my mouth of their own accord.

"Jooheon, you're the first person that ever really _liked _being around me and not only that you...you believed in me. You make me feel like all the shit I've done in the past, sex and otherwise, doesn't matter because you see something more, some kind of shit inside me that I can't even see. And for you to say that shit yesterday...it felt like you were just lying. Like all you really see me as is a slut and all the shit you said was just smoke and mirrors."

Fuck, it felt good to say how I feel and not have to scream it.

It felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

At least, until I saw the tears streaking slowly down Jooheon's face.

My eyes bulged, mouth opening and closing but no sound came out — I had no clue what to say, the _last _thing I expected for him to do was to start crying.

I probably looked something like the world's dumbest gold-fish, standing there like that, but I didn't care, all that could register to my brain was that Jooheon was crying, I didn't like it, and I didn't know what to do to stop it or even make an attempt at comforting him.

But before I could even make an attempt, Jooheon said, voice breaking and cracking in almost every single syllable of his sentence, "Promise, I'm _so _sorry, I didn't mean to make you feel like that. I _don't _think that about you. I don't give a fuck how many people you had sex with before me and I'm _so sorry_ you felt like I did, ok? I _want _you to feel like you can do anything, because you can. You're smart and you're stubborn and you don't take anybody's shit and I fucking love you and I'm so sorry that you felt like I don't."

My eyes bugged and I could've fainted right then and there but Jooheon kept going, frantic now, despite the fact that he was sobbing and full-on ugly crying. Did he even _realize_ what he'd just said to me?

I was still in shock and Jooheon was now talking so fast he was almost rapping, but with a shit-ton of concentration, I still managed to catch it.

"I-I was scared, ok? We haven't — we've never made anything official so you're perfectly within your rights to go and see someone else and I kept trying to tell myself that, but then I saw you with that girl and she was pretty and she looked like someone _normal _and _nice _with an _actual _future instead of some unpredictable wannabe-rapper career and I just got so scared that you'd see how bad I was for you and I just —"

That was about all I could take. I had to hold up a hand to stop him because I felt like I was gonna be sick.

"You're scared that I'm going to leave you? Because you think you're not good enough for me?"

The words felt bitter on my tongue, so ludicrous, so ridiculous I thought for a second that maybe I hadn't woken up after all. Maybe this was still apart of my nightmare.

Because there's no way that Jooheon — sweet, kind, honest, giggly Jooheon, the first boy besides Jiho who'd ever really made me feel safe and loved and OK — thought that he wasn't good enough for me? That he was below _"nice and normal"_ people? That his music meant he had no future, that he was a wannabe rapper?

"Jooheon, you're not...you're not bad for me, you're one of the best influences I've ever had. You're _more _than good enough for me, more than good enough for _anybody_. Yes, a music career is unpredictable especially compared to shit like medicine or whatever, but I love your rap. You work so hard at it and your eyes burn so bright when you even talk about it and fuck, I don't think you know how _beautiful _that is. I'm not gonna leave you for Veronica or anyone else. There's no one better, you fucking idiot. Not to me."

If I thought Jooheon was crying before, then now I was scared he might fucking dehydrate and shrivel up.

Tears were pouring out in a never-ending stream that I was sure couldn't be very healthy as he launched himself at me, his head resting in the crook of my neck and his body wracking violently with sobs.

Fuck, it felt good to have his arms around me. It felt good to have his scent in my nose and his hair tickling my cheek, even if he was drenching my shirt.

Christ, I'm acting like we haven't spoken in months when, in reality, it hasn't even been twenty-four hours.

If Jiho were here, he'd be doubled over laughing about how fucking whipped I am.

Eventually, his crying died down and we just stood there, sharing each other's warmth and glad to know that a stupid misunderstanding hadn't ruined this. That both of our insecurities were just that, petty insecurities. With time, they'd go away and I'd spend as much time alongside this moron as I could possibly get.

"What did you mean," I asked slowly as my fingers carded through his soft, dyed blonde hair at a snail's pace, "when you said that we never made things official?"

"I've never asked you to be my girlfriend and you've never asked me to be your boyfriend, so..." Jooheon trailed off, shrugging though his tone of voice told me that this apparently was not a shrugging kind of matter to him and that was the only thing that kept me from breaking down in laughter because while that was true, I'd been under the impression that we'd been a couple for at least two or three weeks.

"Well, we're making it official now."

"Ok," I could feel Jooheon smiling and the tension in his muscles as he restrained himself, probably from spinning me around like a cheesy rom-com character.

No way I was going through with that, but I compromised by giving him a soft kiss on the forehead instead and pretending not to see his brightly blushing face or hear the shy yelp he gave in response.


	33. //thank u, next

> _**"I've got so much love, got so much patience. I've learned from the pain. I turned out amazing. I've loved and I've lost. But that's not what I see. 'Cause look what I've found. Ain't no need for searching. And for that, I'll say thank you, next." —**_ _thank u, next, Ariana Grande_

It only took four days to find an apartment.

Along the way, Jooheon and I had somehow gone from casually discussing how the lease on his apartment was up in three months to us fighting over whether or not we wanted a place downtown or in midtown and what color carpet we thought the living room should be.

Neither of us really noticed the shift though at some point we'd both realized with disgust that we'd become the couple that moved in together after only a few months of knowing each other and we seemed to have a mutual agreement that we were just friends and roommates that happened to be dating.

Plus, it's not like we would've done it under normal circumstances. If we'd both had parents who weren't absolute lunatics then we'd surely be living with them, sneaking out to meet each other at nighttime and being just a bit more normal than we are now, but that just wasn't the case, so why not live together? Both of us were sick of being alone anyways.

Besides, if we didn't like it, Jooheon had time to go back to his apartment, renew his lease, and we continue on from there.

I told Jooheon straight up that he wasn't putting a dime on this apartment. Neither was I, really. Daddy dearest was paying for it all. Jooheon was all for it ("We can be saving, oh my god!"), and the day after we'd moved our stuff in and thrown away old junk that would just be taking up space, we hit Ikea and hit a field day.

Naturally, both of us were too fucking lazy to set everything up ourselves so, much to Kihyun's disdain, we just paid people to do it for us while playing Call of Duty and eating junk food all day.

It was actually fun. I'd been expecting my move to basically be a funeral march of silence and just sleeping on a mattress in the middle of the floor and feeling sorry for myself, but with Jooheon there with me, it made it feel like something fun and new and exciting instead of the reality of my dad having gotten sick of my presence and kicking me off the property.

Somewhere in all those hours of playing Call of Duty and stuffing ourselves with Chinese takeaway, Jooheon and I casually brought up the fact that we should adopt furbabies ("We would be bomb ass dog-parents," he growled, aggressively shooting several enemies in the face at once.)

How that simple two-line conversation spiraled so out of control that we ended up at the pound three days later, I have no fucking clue.

The animal shelter was loud as all the dogs in the vicinity perked up at the sight of Jooheon and I, especially Jooheon.

I was much better at containing my excitement than he was, and with all his excited wriggling and side-stepping the pups probably thought he was one of them.

There weren't that many animals here, but considering it wasn't a no-kill shelter, any amount was too many.

It would've been a hard enough decision without Jooheon looking like he was about to burst into tears at the sight of every single animal he saw, but Kelsey, the person showing us around the pound, was obviously trying her hardest to tug on our heartstrings and make us adopt as many as our arms could carry, her already dismal voice telling each animal's backstory in the saddest, most dramatic way possible.

In the middle of one of these dramatic retellings, I jumped when I noticed a cat sitting right in front of me, green eyes watching me curiously though one was milky and clouded over.

The cat also seemed to be missing it's front right leg.

Kelsey stopped talking at once when she noticed the cat and I staring at each other.

"That's Matcha. She's supposed to be in a kennel like the others but she's always getting out and wandering around. No clue how she does it."

Matcha paid Kelsey absolutely no attention as she crept closer to me, pretty slick for someone missing a leg and sniffed delicately when I held a hand out to her.

She seemed to like what she found because she let me pet her, purring the moment we made contact and the purring grew twice as loud when Jooheon joined in, the feeling of her light ginger and dark grey fur almost as therapeutic to me as the petting seemed to be to her.

Kelsey looked like Christmas had come early, the bright smile and excitement on her face almost completely countering the dark circles beneath her eyes and the wildness of her strawberry blonde hair, like she'd been pulling on it entirely too much. "She's an American Curl, Scottish-fold mix, and very affectionate and mild-tempered, good with kids and other animals. She would've been adopted in a heartbeat if it wasn't for her leg and half-blindness."

Well, that fucking sucks.

I began to retreat, trying to make a rational decision instead of snatching the small cat up and running away with her like I wanted to, but Matcha wasn't having it.

She swiftly latched her claws onto my sleeve and pulled herself up to scamper up my sleeve like a spider until she was perched on my shoulder like a parrot and even then she didn't stop meowing until Jooheon at least pet her swaying tail.

She was looking around at all three of us with a stare that clearly said she was coming home with us and honestly, I was fine with that. And if the way Jooheon was looking at Matcha like she was our first-born child was any indication, he was too.

But the fun didn't stop there, Matcha had obtained a Golden Retriever/German Shepherd mix brother named Clover, a Samoyed sister named Alaska, and a rather large Bengal cat brother named Tigger before I finally put my foot down and dragged Jooheon out before he could kidnap a small Pomeranian who wasn't even up for adoption, she was Kelsey's fucking dog.

Despite how exasperated I was, when we came back to our apartment to Jiho, Ajiad and the rest of our friends who actually threw a surprise Gotcha Day party for our fucking pets that I hadn't even told them we were getting — _Jooheon runs his mouth entirely too fucking much_ — I couldn't help feeling proud of the little family Jooheon and I had started and this weird direction our lives seemed to be going in.

Even if Jiho was so attached to Alaska that he literally slept over so he could continue playing with her and shed a few tears when he had to leave for work the next morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was so irrelevant, but I just wanted Jooheon and Promise to move in together and have furbabies so bear with me, OK? The next chapter will have actual content, I promise.


	34. //Babylon

> **_"I see it on your face, a small trace, a place laid, we been erased. But if we're way too faded to drive, you can stay one more night. _****_We said we'd both loved higher than we knew we could go. _****_But still, the hardest part is knowing when to let go. _****_You wanted to go higher, higher, higher. _****_We burned too bright, now the fire's gone, watch it all fall down, Babylon_**."_ — Babylon, 5 Seconds of Summer_

The doctor's office was cold and uncomfortable for me but my excitement was enough to warm me a bit. It was finally time, it had been about a month since I'd been kicked out of the house and it was finally time for Andrea's dating scan. Among the various other prenatal test she'd go through as she was about to enter her second trimester, the first ultrasound is going to be performed.

I'd finally see my little sibling.

Andrea was excited though apparently not for the same reasons I was.

She kept looking toward the door like she was expecting for my father to come bursting in with celebratory balloons and cake at any moment.

I knew Declan wasn't coming, I'd bet my gray aerial silk on it, but I didn't have the heart to burst her bubble. I wasn't particularly soft for her, but the growing baby in her belly did garner my sympathy a bit.

I wondered if for the first few years of it's life that it, too, would also constantly be looking over its shoulder, hoping against all hopes that Daddy dearest would burst in, arms suddenly bursting with love and affection just waiting to give them.

The small waiting room was silent, cold, sterile, as hospital rooms always are, and there was absolutely no contact between Andrea and I as we awaited the doctor's arrival.

Jooheon and the others had offered to come with me but I thought that it would be best not to bring them for several reasons.

I wasn't particularly a stickler about Andrea's comfort, but I didn't want to put unnecessary stress on her for the baby's sake.

My eyes jumped up to the entrance when the wooden door swung open, a kindly looking brown-skinned woman with a pretty salmon-colored hijab on her head entering the room with a clipboard.

"Hello, how are you two?"

The obstetrician, Dr. Singer according to her nametag, didn't look particularly confused to see Andrea and I, despite the odd pair we must make. I know she has to be well aware of who we are and who my father is, so I take it she's more than aware of the fact that he won't be around for this baby anytime soon.

"Well, Andrea, your bloodwork from the first prenatal tests a few months ago seems healthy. How are you feeling? Any pregnancy side effects you're experiencing?"

Andrea nodded, her legs swinging as her hands absently rubbed her bulged stomach, way more bulged than I thought it would be at the end of a first trimester. I grimaced at the thought. Going through pregnancy was the only thing I'd ever give Andrea a bit of respect for, even if it was for the wrong reason. Pregnancy had always terrified me.

It seemed unnatural for the body to twist and stretch the way it did and the way it harbored a whole other living organism reminded me too much of the _Alien _movie.

"I'm starting to get backaches a little and cravings. I don't get tired easily as I expected but I do have nasal congestion a lot."

Dr. Singer nodded, her pen scribbling against the clipboard-restrained paper being the only sound in the room before she looked up, giving both Andrea and me a comforting smile. "That's good. Nasal congestion is actually a more common symptom of pregnancy than most women would think. You will get backaches as your muscles adjust to the uneven weight distribution from the baby. Since you're rather young and in good health, I recommend still getting around and being lightly active but nothing that puts too much strain on you or the baby."

The next half hour went by with Dr. Singer asking Andrea more questions about how she's been feeling and her nurse popping in and out of the room with various equipment for all the tests they needed to perform.

I was trying not to zone out in case there was something I needed to hear but there was so much information she was throwing at me at once and it's not like I had any previous experience with pregnancy, so this was all new and jarring to me.

There was the obvious don't strain yourself, take your vitamins, and don't have drugs, alcohol, or undercooked meat but so much more went into pregnancy than I ever realized.

There was a whole checklist that Dr. Singer gave us of things to do to prepare for the baby in a timely manner, and a list of Dos, Don'ts, and various follow-up doctor's visits we would have to make.

Finally, after I felt like my brain was about to explode, a complicated-looking machine was brought in and Andrea winced as a cold blue jelly was applied to her stomach area.

Both Andrea and I gasped as we took in the pictures on the ultrasound screen, jaws dropped as the nurse squealed happily and Dr. Singer turned to us with a wide smile.

"Congratulations, Andrea, you appear to be pregnant with twins."

If this was a movie, this would be the moment that I fainted.

"Would you like the genders to be a surprise?"

Dr. Singer looked at both of us for an answer but my eyes just swung to Andrea, waiting on her response. It seemed like it should be her choice to make. I didn't particularly care either way, I'd treat them the same no matter what gender they were, but that was something that seemed like it would be a big deal to Andrea and I figured I could let her have it even if the idea of sitting through a big gender reveal party literally made me want to vomit.

Surprisingly, though, eyes glued to the screen, Andrea shook her head instantly. "No, I want to know now."

Dr. Singer nodded, her eyes back on the monitor as she rubbed around Andrea's stomach, examining the two small grey moving blobs for signs of health or lack thereof.

"One's definitely a boy and I'm pretty sure the other's a girl though we can't know for sure until the birth. Their positions could always be covering the penis."

I probably looked insane with the Chesire cat grin that stretched across my face but I couldn't help it and I didn't care. I was really having a little sister and brother.

Andrea didn't look much better, Dr. Singer's probing the only thing that kept her from bouncing around in excitement. "Oh, I can't wait to tell Declan, he'll be overjoyed!"

Welp, so much for that Cheshire-cat grin.

Dr. Singer and I shared a sideways glance before she went back to examining the babies and I tried not to look in the direction of Andrea's probably hopeful, shining face. How could someone so evil be so naive? How could any living thing with eyes be capable of having so much affection for someone like my father?

Andrea wasn't a decent person by far, but even she didn't deserve to be subjected to whatever mind games he was playing on her.

What was he telling her in public that made her so devoted to him? She's so determined to prove that buried somewhere within Declan Keshan is a man that's capable of loving her the way she loves him.

No one can be this blind.

Even my mother was aware, to some degree, that her affections for her husband would never be returned.

"Everything seems to be fine." Dr. Singer finally concluded as she began recording her findings on her clipboard, the nurse beginning to turn the equipment off and take it out of the room.

"Both of the babies seem to be healthy and developing well. A pregnancy with multiple babies is a bit more risky for both the mother and the children, so make sure you do your best to rest, stay properly hydrated, eat a well-balanced diet, and take your vitamins. You might also want to invest in taking pregnancy yoga or Lamaze classes to relax and stay active in a way that's still healthy for you and the babies. You'll also need more prenatal checkups than before, I'll have my nurse give you a recommended schedule and you can book your next appointment at the front desk."

I settled taking the rest of the handouts from Dr. Singer as Andrea was obviously preoccupied with trying to get in contact with my father.

Dr. Singer looked at her for a bit as if wondering whether or not to gently break the news to her before we met eyes and I shook my head. Dr. Singer nodded, giving me the remainder of the paperwork and her written recommendation for the prenatal vitamins and supplements Andrea should be taking before quietly exiting the room.

I pointedly ignored Andrea as I helped her into the big, puffy jacket and scarf to protect her from the cold outside and went to schedule the next checkup.

The air was frigid outside but, in the interest of thinking of the future, I'd invested in a car as an alternative form of transportation to my motorcycle. It certainly wasn't my preferred method of getting around, but it was an SUV with enough room for car seats and toys and the kids and their friends and our dogs. Being seventeen and having to think of having a family car isn't really the ideal situation, but I didn't mind nearly as much as I thought I would.

Andrea had finally stopped trying to call my father, her iPhone forgotten in the cupholder as she stared listlessly out the window at the snow-ridden sidewalks and ugly Christmas sweaters starting to make their appearance.

There was no trace of the youthful, bubbly girl who'd just found out she was carrying twins.

I tried not to look at her. Tried not to imagine my little siblings, years in the future, with that same kicked-puppy look on their face as they sit on my couch, wondering why their calls to Mom and Dad never get through. Why they never want to check on them or come to their school plays or discuss their grades in PTA meetings.

It was going to be my job to try and make sure they never wanted for someone to care.

I can't make my father love his kids and I can't prevent Andrea from falling out of love with them the minute she sees they won't get her the affection she craves, but I can keep those innocent kids from being alone. From wondering if someone loves them or if they're even worthy of it.

Because even when their parents aren't there, I love them every step of the way.

"You need something to eat." I muttered after we'd stopped by a pharmacy and picked up the necessary vitamins and supplements.

I expected Andrea to put up an immediate fight, she was even more averse to us having to spend unnecessary time together than I was. But to my surprise, and concern, she just gave a soft noise of agreement, her eyes not moving from the stare out of the window like she wasn't even here.

I was suddenly struck by how little information I knew about Andrea.

She'd done so much to me, why would I ever want to know the black inky silhouette of a human behind the monster that had indirectly been the reason for what happened that night, years ago.

I wonder if my father is the only person in her life, the way he was for my mother before I came along.

The difference between Andrea and my mother was that my mother wanted children for companionship and Andrea wanted them to use as a bargaining chip.

Once she realized that it wasn't going to work, she'd only resent them even more. She'd think they ruined any prospects for other areas of her life.

"Where are your parents?" I asked quietly, my garlic fettuccine alfredo largely untouched as I gazed at Andrea from across the table. Her icy eyes peered unwaveringly at me, voice more hollow than I'd ever heard as she said, "They gave me up when I was born."

Andrea went back to her Caesar salad as if she no longer registered my presence, even as she continued, "Declan's all I have left."

"You have the twins."

Andrea didn't say anything.


	35. //Glad You Came

> ** _"The sun goes down. The stars come out. And all that counts is here and now. My universe will never be the same. I'm glad you came."_ ** _ — Glad You Came, The Wanted_

I'd never been to this side of town before, never really had a reason to, and to say I was utterly confused was an understatement. All the houses were small and squashed together side-by-side where you could really see how similar they looked.

Also, as I've previously just gone wherever I want and never had to remember or follow directions, I was just now learning about my naturally poor sense of orienteering and it was a good fifteen minutes before I could finally decide to swallow my pride and call Veronica.

She'd given me a description of her place and vague directions to get there suck as make a right at the green mailbox but I was going to need a specific address to plug into Google Maps unless I wanted to spend the rest of my life trying to get out of these winding endless suburbs.

"You called five minutes sooner than I expected." Veronica cackled on the other end of the line as I rolled my eyes.

"Shut up and send me the address, idiot!" I hissed before hanging up, Veronica's amused laughter still ringing through the speaker as I hung up.

Ten minutes later, I still had no clue where I was but at least I was at the correct destination, bookbag slung over my shoulder and steps hurried to escape the icy snow and stinging winds that whipped around my hair.

I'd finally caught up on all the work I shirked out on at the beginning of the school year but still kept my studying pretty frequent to stay on top of current topics in school and Veronica proved to be a pretty good study partner.

But as the weather grew colder, the uninsulated library became a worse study spot by the day and after my second sold and Veronica's third, we'd both decided to meet up at each other's houses until the weather warmed up again.

Thankfully, it didn't take long for Veronica to open up, I hadn't really dressed for the weather, and a simple scarf, beanie, black sweater, and cargo sweatpants weren't nearly enough to block out the icy temperature outside.

I was still getting used to the concept of actually caring about my health, even though Jooheon, Shownu, and Kihyun have definitely sped up the process with their constant nagging.

"Took you long enough," Veronica said with a grin as I wiped the crusted snow and dirt off my shoes and onto the welcome mat, body shivering and confused from the sudden change in temperature.

"Learn to give directions better."

"Learn to _follow _directions better."

I could say nothing to that and wasted no time dropping my stuff in Veronica's room before emerging to greet her mom before we immersed ourselves in our work.

I didn't know much about Veronica's family other than the fact that she had an older brother in college, a twelve-year-old sister, and a nine-year brother. Her only parental figure was her mother and she'd never mentioned her father or any of her sibling's fathers so the last thing I wanted to do was pry and pour salt on old wounds.

The closer we got to the kitchen, the more I began to hide behind Veronica even though I was taller and more built than her and it didn't really work very well.

This was my first instance having to actually make a decent impression on parents and it didn't take a genius to figure out that I really didn't have any good qualities to anyone over the age of twenty-seven besides my grandma.

Besides I really like Veronica and she holds her mom in quite high esteem so I felt obligated to be on my best behavior so she'll at least tolerate me.

The kitchen was small and dark but very homey and with the curtains opened on the room's only window, it looked airier than it actually was.

Veronica's mom was a small chubby woman and it was almost dizzying to watch her as she cooked, several dishes on the stove and in the oven at once, cutting vegetables and washing dishes and listening to eighties Latin music all at once.

Does this woman have a hidden set of arms that I can't see?

This is multi-tasking on a new level.

"Mamá." Veronica called, making the woman jump as she turned around to face us only for my jaw to drop when I saw the woman's face.

She was more aged, her way hair once long and jet black was now short and streaked with silver, her caramel skin set with the lines and wrinkles that came from a lifetime of cruel, entitled employers, minimum wage, two jobs, and multiple mouths to feed but it was her alright.

It was Amarianna.

It took a few seconds for her to register who she was looking at but once she did, she dropped the ladle she was holding on to the countertop, slow steps toward me greatly contrasting the hurried speed she'd previously been using to cook.

Her eyes were glassy like she might start crying, jaw dropped as she looked me over as if checking for signs that I wasn't real while Veronica stood to the side, face bewildered and obviously trying to figure out what was going on.

"Promise? Is that you?" she asked. Her voice was the only thing that was exactly the same, the same soft, rich timber and lilting accent that made me feel like a was a kid again, back when life was a lot simpler.

"You know her?" Veronica asked her mother, eyes looking rapidly between us.

"She used to work for my family when I was a kid." I said, the words seeming to activate something in Amarianna as she pulled me into a bone-crushing hug, no longer stunned as she babbled a mile a minute about how big I'd gotten.

Veronica's brow furrowed before her whole face bloomed in recognition. "Oh yeah, she did! It was so longe ago, I'd completely forgot!"

I shook my head at Veronica's spaciness while Amarianna detached herself from me long enough to glare at her daughter.

"How long have you been talking to her without telling me anything?" she demanded.

Veronica laughed awkwardly, hand coming up to scratch the back of her neck as she mumbled, "A couple of weeks."

Amarianna rolled her eyes but left it alone as she ushered both of us to sit at the small round dining table on the other side of the room.

She resumed her cooking, once again rushing around like a hummingbird on fast-forward while asking question after question about when Veronica and I started hanging out and how I've been and how things have changed since she stopped working at my father's house.

A lot of the questions I had to dodge, and some I had to straight-up lie about. I sensed Amarianna knew I wasn't being honest but she didn't comment.

I felt bad for not telling her the truth but not nearly bad enough to have to face the pity, sadness, and disappointment that I'd see in her eyes if I told her the truth about how my life has been since Mom died and she left.

By the time we finished catching up and Amarianna finished embarrassing me by telling Veronica about the stupid things I did when I was a kid, the food was ready and Veronica's younger siblings, Rose and Carlos, were sitting at the table with us as we all ate and talked.

Veronica's younger siblings were welcoming as most kids are, Rose wanting to dominate the conversation with the story of how she was the only one in her cheer squad to master the newest chant and Carlos just wanting to escape to his room to play with his Avengers action figures and avoid eating his vegetables.

It was only after dinner, during the much-shortened mini-study session that Veronica and I managed to do in her room, that I really processed the fact that that was the first dinner I've ever had that was relatively similar to how a normal family's dinner would be.

"I like your family," I said off-handedly as I worked my way through a Physics worksheet.

Amarianna looked up from the book she was reading for AP English and smiled. "Good. They like you too."

After only a couple hours of studying, Veronica and I agreed to call it a night. I wanted to leave in time enough to drop by a restaurant that was still open and pick Jooheon up something to eat since I had no doubt that he had probably forgotten.

But while I was putting my stuff in the car, I turned to see Amarianna behind me holding a large cardboard box that she was obviously struggling under the weight of.

Before I could ask any questions, she just smiled sadly and said, "I took these from Declan's house before I left. I didn't want him to get rid of them."

With those two sentences, I immediately knew that whatever was in the box was once my mother's and it was probably something really important to her. Amarianna had actually saved them, not even know if she and I would ever meet again. Just saved them because she didn't think they deserved to be destroyed by my father's guilty conscience.

I wished that I could thank her, hug her, kiss her on the cheek, do something, _anything_, to show how much I appreciated this.

By my throat was constricted by the tears I was struggling to hold in and all I could do was take the box from her and thank her for the whole evening.

She seemed to understand anyway, hug motherly as she wished me a safe drive home and told me to watch out for the ice on the road.

It was a few moments of sitting in the driveway before I could muster up the courage to open the box in the passenger seat.

It was full of old books.

I was supremely confused for a few moments until I opened one and saw my mothers small, neat handwriting.

These were her diaries.


	36. //Paper Hearts

> _ **"Pictures I'm living through for now, trying to remember all the good times. Our life was cutting through so loud. Memories are playing in my dull mind. I hate this part, paper hearts. ** _ _**And I'll hold a piece of yours. Don't think I would just forget about it. Hoping that you won't forget. I live through pictures as if I was right there by your side. But you'll be good without me and if I could just give it some time I'll be alright. Goodbye love,"** — Paper Hearts, Tori Kelly_

The apartment was dark when I got home but I knew Jooheon was still awake. He had the tv blaring and even if he didn't, it's only about ten at night and I've never known him to already be asleep at this time.

Clover and Alaska were already at the door, waiting anxiously to receive their pets and attention which was rather hard to give them as I was juggling the box of diaries, my book bag, and a takeout bag of food for Jooheon.

"Guys, just give me a minute," I begged, the situation made worse by the fact that my mind was only half in the present, the part that's actually responsible for thinking too preoccupied with the thought of the ten to fifteen journals in the box that contained my mother's innermost thoughts dating back to who knows how long.

Part of me was sure that I shouldn't even read them. Just tuck them in the furthest corner of the closet and do my best to forget they exist.

I'd always wished for a chance to get to know my mother better on a personal level, grieved for the time lost because I wasn't old enough when she was alive to look past the Supermom mask she had to put on and know her as an actual person.

Now, I had the chance and all half of me wanted was to forget about it.

Of all the things to be scared of, I never thought this would be one of them.

Clover panted, head cuddled onto my right leg while Alaska took the other, both dogs much calmer now that my fingers were carding through their fur.

I could hear the clack of nails and sniffing that told me that either Matcha or Tigger was nearby, probably skulking on the countertop and trying to find a way to steal Jooheon's food.

"Babe?" Jooheon called once a couple of minutes had passed and I still hadn't entered the living room to greet him.

"In here!"

The sound of Clover and Alaska's slow breathing coupled with two sets of quick footsteps — God, Jiho was really gonna be here to witness this trainwreck as well, huh — was all I heard for a few short seconds before their worried faces entered my vision, sitting beside me on the floor, Clover moving to lay fully in Jooheon's lap while Alaska took Jiho's.

"What's wrong?" Jiho asked, voice hushed to match the quiet atmosphere.

"I met Veronica's mom today. Turns out her mom is Amarianna."

Jiho's jaw dropped.

"The lady worked at your house when you were a kid? Made you the cake when Declan flaked on you?"

I hummed in confirmation and Jooheon nodded, seeming more confused than before.

"Why does that make you sad?"

"No, it's not that. I'm glad I saw her, it's just...before she left, she took a box full of my mom's diaries so my dad wouldn't throw them away. She gave them to me today. I didn't even know they existed until now..." my sentence trailed off and I huffed, hating how stupid my emotions were before Jooheon tilted my face up, his lips placing a quick, tender peck against mine as if to say everything would be ok.

I couldn't help but let out the tiniest of smiles, rolling my eyes as Jiho gagged beside me at the display of affection.

"It's ok if you're scared to read them. You don't have to if you're not ready—"

"No. I want to. Just...you guys will stay with me, right?"

Both boys nodded, Jooheon giving me a small kiss on the forehead before nodding. "Of course."

The oldest diary started when my mother was twelve. You could tell she had a lot more spare time back then. There was a journal entry each and every day and each of them were no less than five pages long, each line packed chock full of details about my mom's childhood friends and crushes and dance recitals and love happiness and a normal, albeit economically bleak childhood.

The entries start getting more spaced out as she gets older, depression and work taking up a large part of her time. Her fights with her parents start getting more and more frequent.

They don't understand why she dropped out of college when her grades were so high and her future was so bright. They don't understand why she'd throw away a successful and financially stable future for something like dancing. And they certainly don't understand the "made-up illness" that plagues their daughter into thoughts that make her harm herself and want to take her own life.

I feel bile rise in my throat as I tried to recall ever having seen any abnormally intentional-looking scars on my mother's skin, but I couldn't remember. You don't think to look for things like that at that age.

The time between journal entries continues to grow as my mother's depression and life situation continue to escalate until finally comes an entry where the only sentence on the page is that she's decided to join the circus.

Her decision is never particularly explained in subsequent entries but from what I can gather about the circus troupe itself that she decided to join, it's less of the American Horror Story type thing that you might think of and more of a band of performers that do stage shows and put on gigs at large fairs and festivals of acts that happen to involve contortion, tightropes, and other things.

My mother was an aerialist and contortionist for the troupe she was in and she seemed to be having the time of her life, doing what she loved, making friends, traveling the world, and putting food in her mouth all at the same time, something she'd never before thought was possible.

I could feel my stomach roll uncomfortably during these entries. She was so carefree and happy and recovering during that time of her life and I was familiar enough with her life to know who was about to waltz into it and ruin it.

But to my surprise, the entries where my father comes into her life are nothing like I had imagined them to be. I suppose it makes sense. He must have shown her something appealing about him for her to be willing to stay married to him for so long. Why would she have felt any sort of affection for him if he was an asshole from the beginning?

There's the obvious fact that he was in a financially secure tax bracket, but mom just wasn't that type. She was happy where she was as long as she could dance and had enough money to live like a normal human being.

Declan is sweet at first, taking her on lovely dates, showing her beautiful places, giving her thoughtful gifts, endless compliments. He's like a fairy tale prince, not really my type, but it was no doubt that my mother was smitten with him.

As they got more serious, he even began to arrange his schedule around her performances, making sure he could be there for moral support as much as his work would allow.

Everything is perfect, for a while. To my mother at least.

Her life before Declan and the circus had been so full of depression, identity crises, and fighting with her parents that she had never really had time for dating. She didn't know how to recognize the signs that she was being manipulated until it was too late and she'd ended up married and all alone.

Declan wasn't smooth, not to me, but maybe that was because I was familiar with the type of asshole he is.

He didn't have a particularly trying time isolating my mother for her friends, getting her to quit her job, or managing to twist my grandparent's concern for their relationship into a lack of respect for my mother's ability to make her own choices.

It wasn't long before he had what he wanted. My mother was all alone, with no one to turn to but him, in an even worse position than she was when she was a teenager and young adult.

Years were spent holed up in his house, her life revolving around catching glimpses of him popping in and out of the house in between meetings and business trips, strange perfume on his jackets and dark lipsticks on his collars.

It took months of begging and nagging and pleading to coax him into taking a week off work to go on vacation with her.

And that's when I came into the picture.

While my mother was ecstatic about the prospect of finally having someone to love who loved her back, my father was furious. He didn't want to have a child to take care of, he didn't have the time, and every other excuse under the sun.

But, really, he just didn't want to share my mother.

It seemed like for the first four months or so of her pregnancy, every conversation my parents had turned into an argument about Declan accusing my mother of not loving him enough to get an abortion and have her tubes tied.

My mother was panicked, paranoid every night that my father would actually try and hurt her, to take her baby away, would hate the baby and be a bad father to it when it was born.

She spent months trying to warm him up to the idea of having a child, not because she wanted attention, but because she was scared of what my father would do to me if he didn't love me.

She was finally able to see the type of person she married and was terrified that her husband's possessiveness would drive him to hurt their child and tried everything she could to make him love me and make sure it didn't come to that.

She had to beg him just to be in the delivery room when I was born.

And then when she saw him looking down at me like I disgusted him, she burst out in tears, successfully startling him enough to promise that he would do his best to love me and be a good father to me. She even named me Promise so he'd never forget. So I was supposed to be a constant reminder of what he promised her. It was a promise that he upheld for two weeks before breaking.

My name was a decision she quickly regrets as not only did he break his word, I was a living memory of this fact and it only made him hate me more.

And she felt like a bad mother. She felt it was her fault I was here, her fault for who my father was, her fault that she hadn't taken my dad's advice and gotten the abortion instead of bringing me into a world like this.

Every feeling she'd ever buried began pressing down on her like a weight, her old depression, feeling like an inferior mother and spouse, loneliness, anger at my father and life in general.

Around my third months of life, her journal entries stopped entirely even though there were still a few more thick diaries to go through.

Except every sentence in them was about me. It was basically a journal version of those baby scrapbook things.

It was like my mother chose to cease existing in that last journal and pour all her energy into me. The only time she really appeared in the diaries was when it had something to do with me.

The last entry is dated the same day she died. There's none of the usual formatting, just two simple sentences that made my hatred for my father flare brighter than ever before, not what he's done to me but for everything he did to the woman that he was supposed to love and cherish.

_"I hope Declan keeps his promise now. Or else now that I won't be there to love our daughter, she'll grow up thinking no one does."_


	37. //That's My Girl

> ** _"You've been down before. You've been hurt before. You got up before. You'll be good to go." —_ ** _ That's My Girl, Fifth Harmony_

"So, where'd you get it?"

"Guess." I grinned.

"Nipple piercing." Wonho guessed immediately.

"Don't be stupid, Hoseok," Kihyun hissed impatiently with a roll of his eyes, "Of course she didn't get a nipple piercing."

Veronica's eye's widened and Minhyuk choked at the way my grin slowly widened while Hyungwon and Ajiad stared at me in disbelief, Jooheon doing his best to contain his smirk as Hoseok cheered, Jiho giving me a proud high-five.

Shownu was avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room, ears as red as can be, as Kihyun glared at me like a disapproving mother. "You got a _nipple _piercing? Are you crazy?"

"Well, I got both pierced so technically I got two. I also got a daith piercing, but I think you're angry enough so I'll stop talking." I rushed through the sentence, pretending not to see Kihyun's intense glare as we continued our trek.

"How did you know?" Veronica asked Wonho, wide-eyed. He just smirked at her.

"Takes one to know one."

"You have a nipple piercing?!" she shrieked causing multiple people's head to turn and look at a very wide-smirking Wonho who didn't even seem to be the least bit ashamed.

It was the weekend so the mall was crowded, families with small children mixing with groups of teenagers, adults off work, and people just walking around and trying to get out of the house.

My chest was a bit sore, but I was content — I'd wanted these piercings for a while.

Plus, it was good to have something to do to get my mind off the journals. They were rarely far from my mind and I needed a way to let out the anger. For once, dancing didn't work, it just couldn't compare to the unrestrained fury and rage I felt toward my father.

I wanted to go in and fight but I don't know how well Jooheon would take to me starting to go back to the Slaughterhouse and brawl again.

Normally, I wouldn't give a shit what someone else would think about what I decide to do, but as he's someone very close to me and the Slaughterhouse fights are something that's without rules and there's a risk of death each time you do in, I figure that's a little bit different.

I was starting to think about getting into boxing as a way to let go of my anger. Or seeing a professional. Or both.

But none of those options were really things I was prepared to deal with at the moment so here I was at the mall, drowning myself in nipple piercings and retail therapy.

"Can we all split up for a second, I need to go in Victoria's Secret for some stuff, Jooheon and Changkyun keep gravitating toward Game Stop and Kihyun is getting crankier and crankier with every minute that passes that he isn't in Sear's."

Jooheon's head immediately whipped in my direction when I mentioned Victoria's Secret and he pouted. "Why can't we all go at the same time?" he whined causing Changkyun to roll his eyes.

"Because none of us can trust you not to do anything in VS that won't end in us having to bail you out of jail for indecent exposure." he deadpanned.

"Plus, I hate Sear's." Wonho, Minhyuk, Jiho, and I chimed in simultaneously.

Jooheon's put deepened for a moment before he finally nodded. "Fair point," he conceded breezily, kissing my forehead before we all began to split up, Shownu trailed after Kihyun toward Sears while Minhyuk, Changkyun, Jiho, and Jooheon practically skipped into Gamestop and the rest of us shuffled into Victoria's Secret.

Since I was eating better and taking care of myself way more in recent months, I was starting to put on a bit more muscle and, while my dancing was rapidly improving, my underwear was also just not doing a proper job anymore.

Buying bras and tight athletic wear for my torso was out of the option unless the shop attendants wanted me to start crying, but I could at least get some more panties and leggings.

Hyungwon was much more well-behaved than Jooheon would have been though I guess it makes sense. He and Ajiad rarely go anywhere without each other and I shouldn't really be surprised that even lingerie stores aren't an exception to that rule.

He did get a lot of weird looks from older women who were in the store though, plenty of them steering their younger teenage daughters — who were probably there for training bras — away from his direction like they feared he was some sort of child snatcher. I guess that's sort of valid but also he hadn't detached himself from Ajiad since he walked in.

Plus, what if he wanted to buy something, who's to say he can't shop from here just because he's a boy?

I wasn't really the kind of person so get people's opinion on the kind of thing I was thinking of buying, especially since I mostly stuck to a limited color scheme and didn't give a damn if other people liked the outfit as long as I did, so for the most part, we were all going our own separate way in the store except for Veronica.

I could tell she hadn't really been in Victoria's Secret before, not the intimate apparel part. Her whole body was stiff, avidly avoiding even glancing at anything and sticking to my side like a frightened child.

"Are you ok?" I asked, grabbing things that caught my interest and seemed relatively my size to take to the fitting room.

"What? Oh yeah, yeah, I'm fine. I just...don't ever really come in this section."

"Why? Is it the price? If you want something, I can always—"

"No, no, it's not the price, I mean, it is but it—"

"Woah, woah," I put the garments off to the side, giving a more and more panicked Veronica my full attention as I grabbed her by the shoulders and looked her straight on. "Veronica, it's ok. Whatever it is, you don't have to talk about it? Do you want to leave? We can leave and wait for Ajiad and Hyungwon outside."

Veronica's breathing had sped up a bit, but she looked very relieved at this option and nodded immediately.

Outside, as we sat on one of the benches not far from the store, Veronica didn't take long to calm down but once she did, I could tell that she was really embarrassed. "I'm sorry I started freaking out, it's just...stores like that are kind of hard for me to go in.."

"Is it something you want to talk about?" I asked quietly, hand rubbing her back in what I hoped was a comforting manner. I'd never really been good at this sort of things and Veronica usually didn't really show her emotions like this so I had no clue how to handle.

I seemed to be doing an okay job though as she nodded hesitantly, turning to me and taking a deep breath before announcing softly, "I'm trans."

I blinked.

Out of all the things I expected, it wasn't that. For a moment I wondered what that had to do with the situation until my brain cells actually started doing their job and things started coming together.

"Male to female trans?" I asked, just to make sure I understood the situation.

Veronica nodded, wringing her hands nervously. "Yeah. I work a couple of part-time jobs and do extra chores for people in my neighborhood so that I can get estrogen, but I just started a few months ago so a lot of the changes haven't really started yet and every time I try and go in places like that it...it just makes me feel like I'm an imposter or something. Like they're going to try and measure my cup size and see I don't have any boobs and kick me out of something."

My eyes had to be the size of saucers by now and I felt absolutely horrendous. Why didn't I see how nervous she was and offer to take her out sooner? I had no clue that it would be that triggering for her or anyone really.

"I....thank you for trusting me enough to tell me that. We don't have to go back in there, ok? I can get what I need from there whenever. We can just go get ice cream or something while we wait for Hyungwon and Ajiad to finish."

Veronica looked at me shocked, mouth gaping and I couldn't understand why until she finally said, "You...still want to be my friend?"

"I..." the sentence trailed off and my brow furrowed in confusion as I wondered why in the hell she would ask me that. Why wouldn't I be her friend?

My mind flashed back to when we first met. My confusion when she said that she'd never had friends to study with before. How excited she was, almost to the point of tears when I called her my friend in my grandmother's bookstore. Was this the reason why?

"Yeah, of course. You being trans doesn't mean anything to me, Veronica. I don't mean that like I don't care, I just mean that you're still you. Nothing's changed. I'm just happy you trusted me with that."

The moment I'd finished the sentence, I found myself almost choked as Veronica threw her arms around my neck in the tightest hug I'd ever felt. I could feel her crying exceptionally softly, I probably wouldn't have even noticed it if I couldn't hear her soft hiccups beside my ear or feel her tears soaking the back of my shirt.

I didn't mention it though, just giving her an equally tight hug and let her soak up the affection and friendship that she'd been starved of for who knows how long.

"I think I wanna go back inside." she suddenly blurted out.

I pulled back, looking her in the eye for any sign of overwhelming distress. "Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Veronica was probably even more jittery than the first time we walked in the store together, but I could tell that the fact that I was holding her hand this time made it a bit better, and I made sure to give her a reassuring squeeze whenever she got too upset and glare at anyone who gave her a weird look for her behavior.

"I know the chest area is still a bit scary for you, so how about just a pair of leggings?" I said, holding up a cute pair that seemed like they would look good against her brown skin and long, lanky frame. "I think I've heard that your hips fill out a bit on estrogen, but we can always get you more if you outgrow these."

Veronica looked at me wide-eyed, shaking her head a bit. "No, I just came in here to get more comfortable. Those are really cute and I would get them if I could, but I can barely afford my HRT right now."

I gave Veronica a dubious look as I surveyed more clothes, even managing to find the pile of garments I'd abandoned when I had to escort Veronica out.

"I wasn't intending for you to pay for it really. Think of it as an early Christmas present. Ooh, and these earrings, these would look good on you too. Oh and maybe this too, how comfy are you with crop tops?"

By the time Veronica managed to stop me, she had three new outfits and looked like she might cry as we left the store and met back up with everyone else. She still had to hold my hand the whole time we walked around the store and we had steered very clear of the intimate apparel section, but there was plenty of time to face those fears.

Veronica had faced a lot of fears, not only today but throughout her whole life

And as I saw her arguing with Wonho, who was trying to be cheesy and pay for her ice cream, I found myself thinking that she's probably one of the bravest people I know, ten times more so than anyone who ever got in the ring at the Slaughterhouse.


	38. //This One's For The Girls

> ** _"This one's for the girls who love without holding back. Who dream with everything they have, all around the world. This one's for the girls. Yeah, we're all the same inside, from one to ninety-nine."_ ** _ — This One's For The Girls, Martina McBride_

The scarf was too thick, even for this weather, but the concern in Jooheon's eyes when he wrapped it around me before I left the house made me determined to keep the damned thing on until I got indoors, even if I suffocated in the process.

Plus, since it was his scarf, the scent of his immensely pleasant cologne and aftershave was embedded into the fabric, almost making it feel like he was right there with me.

I don't know why I opted to go to my new psychiatrist's office on foot. Sure, it was a Friday afternoon so more people were out than normal, meaning traffic would be even more unbearable than it normally was, but something seemed to be going on today — on the last few streets at least — that meant walking was almost as slow as driving.

Snow crunched under my boots as I checked the time, speeding up a bit in an attempt not to be late to my appointment.

As I turned the corner, only about ten minutes away from my destination now, I could see a crowd surrounding something — the throng of people was too thick to see past — and I huffed, finding myself more and more curious. This wasn't the first crowd I'd seen on the street, far from it actually and whatever they were looking at was the majority of the cause of the sidewalk traffic today.

Deciding that I could spare a few minutes out of my schedule to see what the hell was going on, I jogged over to the crowd of people, careful not to slip on the icy sidewalk as I gently maneuvered my way through the crowd until I was at a point where my height allowed me to see what was causing the holdups on the street.

Rap music played loudly through a speaker that I assume was connected to someone's phone as, in the center of the crowd, a group of three people about my age give or take a few years, danced along.

Their specialty was obviously popping, limbs moving detached and isolated like they were more machine than human.

As they danced, there was a person standing near them with a hoodie on that displayed a logo that I definitely recognized. It was the bright purple and blue-ringed infinity sign that belongs to Infinity Saturn Dance Studios, a place actually not too far from my mother's studio, and one of the best dance studios in the state, arguably one of the top studios in the nation.

Plenty of the people I danced against at the Slaughterhouse eventually moved on to start dancing there.

While my mother's dance studio was more of an independent contractor type place with tons of empty studios and equipment for whoever wanted to reserve a room — whether they wanted to teach or just practice by themselves — InDa was a proper dance academy with a class schedule, teachers, choreography classes for the general public and actual dance classes for those who wanted to make dance a bit more than a hobby.

I'd seen videos of their choreographies before and, while their teachers seemed to be insanely talented, I'd never actually given any thought to actually trying to join InDa.

You have to actually be able to play nice and communicate with other people, something that was completely out of my purview a few months ago but now was entirely possible for me.

It's obvious that dance is pretty much the only thing in life that I've actually been serious about, career-wise, maybe it's time for me to suck it up and learn from someone other than my mother.

When the song ended, the dancers bowed a bit as the crowd clapped profusely and, as the pedestrians began to dispense, the person in the InDa hoodie started to walk around handing out flyers for anyone who wanted to join.

"Promise?" I jumped when they got to me, hand outstretched for a flyer that was now pushed completely from my mind as I tried to look under the cap and hoodie that was obscuring the person's face.

"Lisa?"

Her face was still shadowed under the hat and hoodie but it was definitely her.

Lisa was a dancer that used to frequent the Slaughterhouse almost as frequently as I did and we'd competed countless times. She stopped competing a few months ago even though she still showed up to a few of the competitions.

I'd wondered idly what happened to her a few times and I guess now I have my answer.

"Long time no see, huh?" she grinned. Lisa and I had a weird understanding, having competed against each other so many times. We weren't friends but any stretch of the imagination but I'd seen her do all kinds of choreographies and express her emotions in various different ways and vice versa so we sort of knew bits and pieces of each other that we wouldn't otherwise, even if this is the first time we'd actually had a conversation.

Over time, she seemed to just learn not to be scared of me and I just gave her space and never bothered or said anything mean to her.

"You've been MIA from the Slaughterhouse dances the past couple months? Has a studio finally snatched you up?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Nah, life's just been really crazy and I haven't had time for the Slaughterhouse. I mostly dance by myself for right now."

Lisa's grin widened even more as she all but shoved a flyer in my face. "Perfect! You should audition for InDa! It would be so cool to have you there! If we weren't the best studio around before, we definitely will be now!"

I smiled at her enthusiasm. In a lot of ways, Lisa reminded me of Jiho. Bright and happy, laid-back, unable to hold a grudge or rivalry, and even more impossible to dislike.

"Thanks, I think maybe it is time to do a bit more with my dancing." I said, taking the flyer and pausing a moment before continuing, "Uh, do you think I can have another for a friend of mine. He might want to audition as well."

"Of course, the more the better!" Lisa chirped, handing me another flyer before giving me a look eerily similar to Jiho when he was about to do something stupid or mischevious or both.

"So you have friends now, huh?" I could tell the statement wasn't meant to be malicious, I don't even think Lisa was capable of malice, and the teasing grin on the corner of her lips gave her away anyway. I wasn't even surprised at this point that Lisa was already being so bold with me when some of the people sharing the sidewalk with us were still giving me suspicious looks and a wide berth.

"Yeah, I know right, sometimes I can't believe it either. A lot of self-improvement has happened these past few months."

Lisa smiled like she was genuinely happy and proud of me and it was such a kind, simple gesture that I couldn't help but give her a smile in return.

"That's great! I'm really happy for you. It's nice to see you doing better. Maybe now we can actually be friends and dance _partners _instead of rivals. I know this might be a weird thing to say and the timing may be off but," Lisa seemed much more awkward now, shyly rubbing the back of her neck as she said, "You were always a really big inspiration to me. Just seeing how much you loved dance really pushed me to work harder and love it too. Our battles became something that I really looked forward to and I probably wouldn't be the dancer I am today without you. To be able to actually be friends with one of my inspirations without her biting my head off would be great."

If I was the crying type, I'd probably be bawling right now, but instead I just settled for giving her a soft smile and pulling her into a hug — very hard for me as I didn't know her that well but the smile on her face was definitely worth it — and letting out a quiet, "That would be amazing, Lisa."


	39. //Stand By You

> _**"Even if we're breaking down, we can find a way to break through. Even if we can't find heaven, I'll walk through Hell with you. Love, you're not alone, 'cause I'm gonna stand by you."** — Stand By You, Rachel Platten_

"Well, Promise, I have to say I know that you've made great strides on your own." Dr. Leilann smiled, voice soothing as I still reeled from telling the majority of my childhood trauma to a complete stranger.

Really, I only came here to cover all the bases. Seems ridiculous to do all this to try to make myself better and not seek professional help, especially since I have the means to do so.

But I didn't expect to actually find some benefit to it.

Dr. Leilann was a strong-faced olive-skinned woman with a kind disposition and alert, attentive eyes and it didn't feel awkward as I recounted my trauma to her. She looked at me like I was a person and not a mental case, reacting to the events I retold her as a friend would.

By the end of it, it felt like a large weight had been lifted off my shoulders. People always said it was healthy to talk about the things that bothered you, but I didn't think it was actually true. Not to this extent anyway.

"You've already begun forming personal connections, realizing your faults and traumas, and seeking healthier coping methods. I'm proud of you." Dr. Leilann smiled as she looked down at the notes she'd taken before looking up inquisitively.

"Our session's almost over, so we'll pick this up next week, but there is one thing I'm curious about."

"Ok, shoot."

"Why do you think you haven't danced at the Slaughterhouse recently? Why are you considering a studio now? You say you didn't have time for the Slaughterhouse, but you seem like the type to _make _time even if you can't find it."

The office was quiet for a moment, my lips pursed as I thought about her question.

Why _hadn't _I gone back to the Slaughterhouse?

Because she was right. here were plenty of nights I thought about going. Plenty of times I'd considered signing up, but the prospect just didn't fill me with the same rush of adrenaline and relief that it used to.

It was like the Slaughterhouse was no longer my safe space, if anything it just housed bad memories. But maybe that was because now I actually had better ones to compare it to.

"I don't need it anymore. I think," I paused, my eyes swinging up from staring at the ground to looking at Dr. Leilann, "I think I found what I was looking for elsewhere."

Dr. Leilann stared at me for a bit before a slow smile spread over her face and she nodded, standing and shaking my hand as she ushered me out of the door with a warm look. "It was great talking to you, Promise, I'll see you next week. And good luck at your audition, though I don't think you'll need it."

"This is insane," Shownu muttered, pacing up and down the hallway in front of Studio 3C in Infinity Saturn Dance Studio, about forty-five minutes after I'd left Dr. Leilann's office.

"Just calm down and we'll be fine. With all that pacing you're doing, I think you've got the warm-up covered, just try and focus on stretching." I said, giving him what I hoped was a reassuring smile as I slid into a split, feeling the tension in my body ease with every stretch of my muscles.

Ok, so maybe this was a little bit crazy and we were jumping the gun a little. My original intent was to wait about a week or so, practicing and perfecting one of my older choreographies or aerial routines to try and prepare for the audition.

But after my conversation with Dr. Leilann, I felt like I was on top of the world. I was just now beginning to grasp how far I'd come, the progress I'd made, the rate at which I'd distanced myself from my destructive habits and become a better person. Sure, I wasn't perfect but I was damn sure hardworking and dedicated enough to past this InDa audition.

At least that was what was running through my head when I'd called Shownu and told him to get down to InDa for the audition ASAP.

A lot of that courage was gone now as it sunk in where I was standing and what I was about to do, but I was still trying to keep positive. It's too late to go back now.

Shownu seemed to think otherwise.

I already made it very clear that by no means did he have to audition with me right now, especially if he was too shy or wasn't ready but he'd agreed.

Now, he seemed to have abandoned all of that in favor of a complete and utter state of panic that I didn't even think someone so stoic and straight-faced was even capable of.

"Shownu, calm down for a second, ok? Look at me!"

He froze mid-step, eyes wild as he looked down at me, hands braced on his shoulders in an effort to keep him stable enough for me to say what I had to say at least.

"Look, I know you're nervous and I may not act like it, but I am too. But it's _just _an audition, ok? They know we want to join to learn, they're _not _expecting for us to know everything. They just want to see that we're hardworking and dedicated enough to have danced and practiced the fundamentals to a certain degree and you've got that down, alright? Despite what you might think, you are a very good dancer. And even if they don't think so then fuck them. There will be other auditions and other studios that would love to have you onboard."

Shownu blinked like I was speaking a foreign language, taking a moment to process my words before he deflated a bit, body loosening up enough for me to know that he was still scared but a lot better than before.

"Ok. I'll stretch with you, but don't expect for me to hit a split. I'm not Kihyun."

My eyebrows shot up practically to my hairline. "Kihyun can hit a split? Wow, who knew. Wait, how do _you _know—"

"Promise Keshan!" a voice called from inside the studio as a door opened and one of the last auditioners exited, looking supremely downcast.

I tried not to focus on that as Shownu gave me a reassuring pat on the back and I shot back what I hoped was a confident smile before stepping into the studio.

It was a normal studio, except the walls were a pretty grey and the floor a dark polished grey concrete. God, please don't let it be slippery. It was a bit larger than some of the other studios I've seen, which was a good thing as it gave me ample space to dance while still accommodating the table of about five people sitting with clipboards and bottles of water.

They looked tired — I couldn't imagine how long they'd been there, even when they probably had done things before this and still had things to do after this — and it made me a little bit more nervous as I didn't know if their fatigue was going to cloud their judgment.

But still, I smiled and greeted them, pleasantly, wasting no time in telling them about who I was and my dancing background and experience before quickly jumping into the choreography.

It was an old one, made last year, and I had to make some on-the-fly modifications to it as I performed for parts that I had forgotten or didn't like anymore, but the dance teachers seemed to be impressed by the end anyway.

"Impressive? Where did you find the choreography?" Janelle, one of the more popular InDa dance teachers asked, as she scribbled things down onto the paper in front of her.

"I made it."

Her eyebrow rose and she peered up at me from underneath her lashes. "Really? So, you're interested in creating your own choreographies as well as learning others?"

"Yeah, the more I danced, the more I started to make my own. Now about half the dance I do is stuff that I've made."

"What dance styles do you find yourself incorporate in your choreographies?" another pretty well-known choreographer, Kasper, asked.

"Well, competing at the Slaughterhouse and being taught by my mother has exposed me to a lot of different varieties of dance, so they've kind of all blended into my dancing a bit. I'd say the styles that leak through the most are lyrical, modern ballet, and voguing with different hip-hop styles like animation, tutting, and waacking."

"Well, it's good that you've been exposed to different styles, you won't have as steep of a learning curve to adaopt to. Can you freestyle?"

"Yeah, it's not what I really focus my energy on, but I make sure it's decent."

"Can we see?" Janelle asked and I nodded, the music to a random pop-rap song queuing up as I took a couple of beats to familiarize myself with song before launching my body into action.

I was surprised they actually made me freestyle through the entire song instead of just one or two sections and I was really glad that I still worked on freestyling, even if I wasn't the best at it, since I actually managed to get through the song, even garnering some of the judge's approval in the process.

I stood, catching my breath for a few moments while the judges murmured amongst themselves, comparing notes and nodding before finally turning to me, the choreographer in the center, Hazel, smiling at me as she said, "Well, Promise, we know for sure you have the skill levels to be in the advanced classes, intermediate at the lowest for things like ballet or contemporary. But we have another offer. Honestly, with your skill level and experience, after six months to a couple of years, depending on how seriously you take this, we would probably be willing to take you on as an assistant choreographer."

Excuse me, what?

What did she just say?

The minutes between thanking the choreographers and meeting Shownu's worried face again in the hallway were a blur to me, but I didn't have a chance to explain myself or assuage his anxieties before his name was being called and I was left alone to my thoughts, but not for too long because about a minute later, Lisa was jogging up to me a bright smile on her face even though, judging from the sweat on that soaked her athletic wear and the mussed ponytail on her head, she'd just come from a dance class.

"Promise? You already auditioned? Should've known." she grinned, both of us stepping to the side as the hallway crowded with chattering students making their way out of the building or down the winding hallways to practice or attend another class

"Yup, Hazel said I'm cleared for advanced or intermediate classes but I'm starting to wonder if she was pulling my leg or something."

Lisa rose a brow. "That doesn't sound like Hazel, she's pretty blunt. What makes you think that?"

I repeated what Hazel said about InDa being willing o take me on as an assistant choreographer after such a short training stint and Lisa shook her head. "She wasn't kidding. They do that with students that train here long enough. I'm already estimated to start shadowing Kasper in about six months or so and I know some others that were in your position and already moved on to be teachers or assistant choreographers."

"Really?"

"Yeah, it's more common if you're already being placed in advanced and intermediate classes, that means you've got the fundamentals down, dedication, and the work ethic under your belt and that's most of the battle, you just need polishing and more professional experience. As a matter of fact, I'm in a study group full of other advanced students, you should join us."

My brows furrowed. How have they made a study group for dance classes?

Seeing my confusion, Lisa laughed. "We just get together and practice and help each other memorize choreos or learn new techniques and stuff. We're not gonna give you a pop quiz on the founder of ballet."

"I feel like that's something we should probably know."

"I've never done a ballet in my life." Lisa deadpanned.

I was about to respond when Shownu came stumbling out of the practice room, looking a bit green despite the bright smile on his face.

"I-I'm in the advanced hip hop classes," he mumbled, looking like he almost didn't believe the words coming out of his mouth.

"Me too, with some intermediate stuff!" I beamed, high-fiving his clammy hand.

"Is this the friend you told me about?" Lisa asked and I nodded as she turned to Shownu, ever-present friendly smile on her face as she outstretches a hand toward Shonwu.

"Hi! I'm—"

"L-Lisa Manoban," Shownu mumbled, his previous sickly green now replaced by an intense blush as he shook her hand for a fraction of a millisecond before returning his eyes down to stare a hole in his shoes.

Lisa just laughed, taking it all in stride. "You must know me from the Slaughterhouse. Thanks for remembering! Oooh, we should go sign ou guys up for classes!"

Whether we wanted to or not didn't seem to be of much consequence as Lisa had already grabbed our hands and zoomed down the hallway with us before either of us could protest.

There were a lot of classes to choose from, from choreography classes to dance style classes and even things more my speed like aerial silks and aerial hoops. Both Shownu and I ended up having a pretty full schedule with school during the day and then InDa classes from three to half-past nine and Lisa warned us that we'd probably stay at least two hours extra due to needing to practice, but neither of us seemed to mind.

It was a lot but both Shownu and I seemed to realize that dance was undoubtedly what we wanted and we were willing to do what it took to make that happen.

Shownu didn't even have a problem with me using my card to pay for his classes.

He couldn't afford them and, thanks to blackmail and Declan's shitty parenting, I had an unlimited bank account so why not use it. After actually meeting my father and seeing how horrible of a person he was, pretty much all of my friends — except Veronica who had never met him — were perfectly okay with and even eager for me to pay for stuff.

We knew we'd probably never be able to max out his card but I got a tiny pinprick of satisfaction and revenge every time we used it.

"See you guys tomorrow!" Lisa called as we all left InDa, Shownu and I waving as her long, lanky frame speed walked in the opposite direction and disappeared into a convenience store.

"How are you going to do school, the twins, _and_ InDa classes all at once?" Shownu asked as we ducked into a nearby Starbucks to get something to warm us up. Since the night was starting to fall, it was even cooler than it was earlier, the wind picking up and now starting to swirl in the air, getting stuck in everyone's hair and clothes.

My lips pursed and I sighed. "I don't know. The twins won't be here until near the end of May so I think I might just finish out junior year then do homeschool online or something for senior year. I just don't know if I can afford to spend eight hours away from them at school, especially not when they're newborns."

"Well, hopefully, Andrea will at least keep the twins for a month or two so they won't be fresh newborns when you inevitably have to take over." he smiled reassuringly.

I nodded, my sigh almost inaudible over the chatter of the coffee shop and the dull drumming of my fingers against the countertop as the Starbuck's employees hustled behind the counter to bring cranky, entitled customers their overpriced caffeine before they got even more cranky.

I wasn't particularly sure I wanted the twins near Andrea at any point in time.

The more time I spent with her, the more completely disconnected from reality she was beginning to seem. It was almost like she wasn't aware she would be giving birth to actual children and didn't even see them as people. Just little tickets with the words "This will grant you Declan's undivided attention on them." that she couldn't wait to cash in.

Despite myself, I was beginning to actually get concerned, mostly for the babies, but also for Andrea herself. Was this normal? Does she need to go to a psychiatrist?

Even if she went, there would be so much explaining to do, it might just do more harm than good.

"Hey."

I startled, whipping around to see that in the time I was daydreaming, Shownu had grabbed both of our coffees and was handing me mine with an outstretched smile.

"Look, whatever you're worried about, quit it. You're doing all you can for right now, ok? You don't have to deal with every problem all at once and you certainly don't have to do it alone."

My eyebrows rose, the piping hot cappuccino scalding my throat in a way that was much more pleasant now that the cold weather was here as we left Starbucks, resuming our trudge toward my apartment where I supposed Shownu was going to spend the night.

"I'm not asking you guys to help. Newborn babies, especially two of them are a lot of work and responsibility and you guys already have your own lives with enough on your plate."

Shownu gave me an amused look.

"Well, Kihyun's already made all of us learn how to give infants CPR and Changkyun and Minhyuk are actually reading parenting books instead of video games, Hoseok has taught himself how to make baby food and change diapers, and Hyungwon and Ajiad are hitting up every toy store and baby clothing section they can find, so good luck telling them that."

My lips pursed to hide my smile.

"Please tell me Ajiad won't let Hyungwon dress the twins in matching frog onesies."

Shownu snorted. "I'm sure Kihyun won't let that happen." he said, as if the hamster onesies Kihyun would be shoving them into were much better.


End file.
